#Free Rein Spoiler

[hyperions-light]

Varric's Second: Defining Rook's Narrative Role

"That's why you're my second in command."

Is one of the first things Varric says to Rook in the entire story, and it seems innocuous, on its face; a piece of exposition, nothing more. However, it will define Rook's narrative role far more than may be initially obvious, and tells us some key facts about Rook immediately.

A second, especially in a situation where one may get in a fight (i.e., a duel) is someone who stands for one of the primary participants. They negotiate on their behalf, organize the details, and, in some cases, take over for them should they be unable to continue. They must be someone that the primary has absolute confidence in to represent them.

Now, you know Varric. Liar, Author, Handsomest Dwarf in Thedas. You know what kind of person he is, what he values. What kind of person do you think he'd choose to represent him directly?

There have been many complaints about how nice Rook is, but I submit to you that by placing Rook as Varric's second at the beginning of this story, Veilguard is giving you prerequisites for the sort of person they are.

Bioware has always done this; no matter what else they are, the Warden has to be someone who will accept the responsibility of ending the Blight. Hawke must be someone who tries to take care of their family. The Inquisitor must be someone who, when thrust into a position of power against their will, will step up and take the reins. These qualities are immutable; it maybe that Hawke, the Warden, and the Inquisitor are the kind of people who can save the world relatively alone. Veilguard is telling you Rook is not that kind of person.

On an external level, the reason for this is that if you are going to invest heavily into making the companions lifelike and narratively significant, you have to justify the expense. As many people as possible have to see that content, or the studio is going to call it a waste of resources. If Rook can dismiss them they cannot have major plot arcs, because that's a waste of money.

But diagetically, this problem is solved by Varric's introduction. Does anyone seriously believe that Varric would choose someone to DIRECTLY represent him-- stand in for him morally, physically, and philosophically-- that would abandon their friends? VARRIC TETHRAS, the man who bribed the Templars to stay away from Anders' clinic for years, the man who supports Merrill in her quest to summon a demon, the man who stands by Hawke no matter what-- does anyone think THAT MAN would pick someone to stand in for him who doesn't care about their companions? I think implying he would would have been a gross mischaracterization.

Rook is not the kind of character that would want to save the world alone, even if they could, because Varric wouldn't choose that. They are Varric's second, and that one assertion tells you an enormous amount about them.

This feels like a good place to end for now, and makes this post relatively spoiler-free. I want to talk about Varric vs Solas throughout the narrative in future, so watch this space for links to that.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HCs: Ken meeting a Human!Fem!Reader who owns a ranch

Wanted to write something for this movie bc it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past two days. So enjoy, lovelies! 

I’m taking requests for this movie so don’t be shy <3 

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

...........

After going back to the Real World to find a purpose for himself, Ken runs into you, a country girl who left the Mattel company to take care of your ranch.

You just stopped in the city to find new outfits..and instead found him rollerblading through the park, immediately recognizing him as a Ken.

You may not be in the company anymore but you just knew (especially with his vibrant outfit giving it away).

You two hit it off right away and eventually you go shopping together.

He gets a new cowboy outfit and is bashful when you pay for it (to which you reply that you..really didn’t have a choice in the matter, as he had no money).

He’s like “ohh that happened before when I was with Barbie..we got arrested for the second time that day :D”

You’re very concerned and decide that he should stick with you from now on (not that anyone at Mattel would ever care about a Ken running around to begin with...you just didn’t wanna have to bail him out of jail).

On the truck ride back to your home, you mentioned owning a ranch and Ken’s in a w e

You tell him more about it, and he’s so intrigued and can’t stop staring at you the entire time, especially as you go on about how a lot of women in your world are cowgirls and how they aren’t represented enough.

He bluntly states that he once believed “patriarchy” was all about the horses and you nearly laughed, but he seemed sad about it, so you assure him if he wanted to see horses, he made the right decision coming with you.

You introduce him to one of your favorite steeds and he’s SO overjoyed to actually see one in person. Like petting its mane and asking dozens of questions like an excited kid.

“Are you sure Barbieland didn’t have any horses of their own?”

“No, we just have the ones on sticks and our imaginations.” He pouts, mimicking the way he rode invisible horses with his hands. “But this? This is WAY cooler!!”

He tries mounting your horse, envisioning himself riding off into the sunset, free as a bird while shouting “yeehaw” at the top of his lungs-

Only for it to rear its head up and nearly stomp on his foot, with you having to calm it down as he snaps back to reality, looking utterly distraught and stressed over upsetting it.

“Alrighty. Ken. If you wanna ride a horse..the first step is earning its respect. Thought you would’ve learned about that in those books....but if you’ll let me, I’ll show you how to properly mount one. Luckily this one here’s accustomed to double riders.”

His face lights up and he listens to every instruction you give him, from placing the saddle on its back to climbing on, and finally how to control the direction he wants it to go.

For this one time, however, you take the reins and let him sit behind you, hugging you a bit too tightly for your liking, but you allow it as you show him around the rest of your ranch.

He just likes the closeness fr and you.

By the time the day’s over, your horse got better acquainted with Ken and let him ride around for a little while before you gotta put it in the stable for the night.

Before he could worry about where he was gonna go, you tell him he can stay with you as long as he wants.

He’s so happy he just,,,,breaks down ugly crying into your arms.

Though he quickly apologizes, admitting he’s still getting used to crying freely and being more emotional and-

“It’s okay, Ken.” You reassure him. “We need more guys like that around here who ain’t afraid to shed a tear or two.”

“Th-Thanks...Barbie told me it’s an amazing feeling. And honestly..it kinda is.”

After that small heart-to-heart talk, he gifts you his horseshoe necklace as a sign of his appreciation, that dopey grin returning to his face when you take it and wear it right away.

Yeah, you’ve only met each other for a day and he’s smitten the moment you started treated him as an equal. You let him have his own room, bed, wardrobe, etc. (and in time he'll have his own horse too).

All you ask is that he helps you manage the ranch, but at this point he’s willing to do anything for you now.

Finally, he realizes this was his dream all along.

One that Barbieland couldn't provide, but that was alright.

Patriarchy is overrated, anyways. This was all he wanted.

[llilyrose]

llilyrose spends her time analyzing aroace stuff. yay.

isat spoilers afoot

what i especially like about the way adrienne wrote mira's orientation is the lack of room for interpretation. yes they snuck aroace talk into fantasy france, but just stop and think for a minute. what would happen if mira just said "i'm aroace" or "i don't feel love the same way" instead of all the nuance we got to her character in the friend quest convo?

we know she's sex repulsed, we know she's romance repulsed. we know she loves fiction that has those things in it, loves interpreting fictional characters that way, but can't bare to see herself in that situation. it makes a lot of sense with regards to her location (vaugarde, a very sex-positive and romance-adamant country) and also with regards to herself (the way she feels about her environment). Of course she wouldn't blame other folk around her for engaging with their religion the "correct" way, of course she'd internalize all her feelings of being outcast and turn it back on herself.

The fandom respects this! Nobody ships her romantically, or sexually, because we know she's not into that. We know she would never and i know a bunch of people who would punch you for even thinking it!

Now what if Adrienne hadn't put this in the game? What if they had just said on their tumblr one day, "mira's aroace," or something. where would we be now? aspec shipping discourse would definitely take the reins. we'd have people shipping her in all kinds of different ways, bending the aroace character to the best of their ability because they could still be into sex, or romance, or whatever. this is TRUE, it's POSSIBLE, but there's no nuance. We wouldn't know the way Mira really feels about these things unless Adrienne told us, so a lot of people would either ignore/"work around" her identity or just wouldn't even know about it to begin with!

Introducing mira's orientation in the way adrienne did leaves no room for discourse. we know if she's sex-positive, sex-negative, how she reacted to finding out she was, etc. It provides so much more representation than a simple "I'm aroace" ever could. It's such a wide label, so finally having CONCRETE information about a canonical aroace's experiences with their orientation is so, so freeing and honestly quite refreshing. and it's worked into the story seamlessly!!!

She's not an emotionless carcass with no capacity for love, she's not outwardly detesting sex or romance at every possible moment, she's simply a well-rounded character who happens to be aroace. You have time to warm up to her before ever even finding out about her orientation! Or having any clue at all (barring maybe the suspicious sketches)!!!!! Aroace people are real!!! We're so real!!!!

Speaking of the suspicious sketches! We know siffrin's alloace (from, like, one line of dialogue), but we don't know if he's sex-repulsed. Adrienne's gone on record to say "aces can still have sex" in reference to siffrin, so I'm inclined to believe he has at least some sort of libido.

When looking at the sketches, both him and mira have a repulsed reaction. I think there are three possible reasons for Siffrin here!

Siffrin is sex-repulsed and has a visceral reaction to them because he thinks it's gross.

Siffrin has no libido because the stress overrides everything in his system. That combined with his ace identity would probably lead to a distaste for the papers.

Some people would NOT GET THE MEMO from the act 3 friendquest. Sometimes when you're writing you have to account for the gamers being really really dense. Some people didn't even understand the Isa friendquest was him coming out as trans basically. Since Ace characters are hard to "prove" unless they explicitly state they dislike sex, this line of dialogue might've just been there to drill it in that Siffrin is ace because the only other place we see that implication is one line in the friendquest. It could even have no tie to his relationship with sex, who knows?

one of these options is not like the others! /silly

I couldn't tell you which one of those it is, but i think at least one of them had to have hit the mark. It's a lot harder to decode siffrin's sexuality when we only get like 5 lines of dialogue total that vaguely even reference it

With this we come back to the issue from earlier: He could be demi, he could be ace, he could be sex-repulsed, he could not! Most people write them sex-repulsed and I'm personally on that bandwagon, but interpreting them a different way isn't any less correct unless you completely ignore the fact they're ace in the first place.

Even sex-positive aces have complicated relationships with sex. Some do it for the gratification, some simply have higher libido and can't think of a different way to get it out, and others only do it to please their partner.

I think writing an ace character as sex-positive should be seen as a character study instead of an excuse to ship two characters together. Is this character the type to even enjoy it in the first place? How often? How do they interact with it? Etc. Which I think is what Adrienne was talking about when she said "aces can still have sex." We don't know about siffrin's identity, we don't have a grasp on the nuance, but we do know he's ace and that he experiences love differently from the way mirabelle does, and the way isabeau does, and the way odile does, and what have you.

I love love love the representation we get in isat. An aroace, an alloace, and someone that a lot of fans headcanon as aroallo though it's unconfirmed. Even if Odile's not aro, we still get that line of dialogue about not finding romance suitable for her at the moment, which speaks true to a different experience altogether. No two characters experience love, experience life the same in isat. That's why i get to make a tumblr text post that's a bit too long exploring the different avenues adrienne took when writing the characters lol :')

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 61 analysis // spoilers

between monster and doctors, the ones who are fit to survive are the ones who are ready to bare their souls to the world — and sometimes, the one to do so it’s the one we expect the contrary.

at first, when i started to think about this thread, i was about to say “we have a chapter with two extremes: one character who’s ready to speak his mind and the other who’s afraid to do so”. but, as fast as this thought came to mind, it also slipped away because…well..they are not that different from each other, are they?

ujjie is tired. tired of people who do nothing but bring other’s down for their own benefits — and tired of being on the other spectrum of things. after all, what gives the right to some to step on others but act with superiority as soon as they taste their own poison? after a long time of being rejected and having his opinions denied, ujiie starts to speak what is on his mind without worrying about any retaliation — after all, what could harm him when he is someone who has nothing in the eyes of others?

having this power allows him to express himself more and fight for his place in the world, as well as serving as protection. this causes him to block himself from relating to other people who are not seen as equal in his eyes. if they didn't listen to him, why would he listen to them? why do they have this right and he doesn't? (and this becomes much more explicit when he has the argument with mitsumi, someone who is really the opposite of him and who tries to see everyone's heart before anything else.)

however, ujiie doesn't realize that he ended up falling into his own trap: what ends up slipping through his fingers is the opportunity to realize that other people also hide much more than he himself imagines.

then shima enters and the concept of appearance starts to suffer a shock. well, in a world divided between monsters and doctors, who knew a monster could have a soul after all? unlike what ujiie imagined, shima is much more like him than he thinks. after all, both were silenced several times and had their desires denied in different ways. while ujiie suffered from the hypocrisy of those around him, shima was forced to accept a desire that was not even his, but that of everyone else around him. both were created by a doctor, but in different laboratories.

and it's at this moment that the second monster has the chance to show its claws: shima is finally fighting for something he likes and for a role that he admires so much. this gives him the courage to feel like he does have the right to play whoever he wants, because he will do his best to make that possible.

shima is starting to change and come out of the glass dome he had previously been placed in. it is now becoming clearer to him where his desires stand in comparison to someone else's that were forced upon him. he is starting to fill up all the things that were stolen from him and is taking them one by one, with his own hands.

of course, not all change comes with serenity: it is still very difficult for shima to understand who he is taking the reins from. even though he now understands that he needs to make his choices alone, the shadows of all those who helped him begin to creep in. "if i have the right to take what's mine back, who should i take it from? if taking back what's mine would mean hurting those who helped me, would i still have the right to do it?"

it's still very difficult for him to see himself in any position other than the fine line between doctor and monster. he can see parts of himself with his character and his battles, but he also finds himself carried away by the speech of others, making him see a little of the doctor, who denies the monster a free life, in himself. that’s why ujiie’s right in his opinion, but that doesn’t mean he will accept it that easily.

compared to all the chapters focused on shima, this is a big leap towards conquering his identity. it's very beautiful to follow shima's growth and see him abandoning the silence that has always accompanied him. sensei chose to give him a chance to find his own voice in a very gentle way, without generating any other trauma that would put him back in a dark mindset. all of this could have taken another form and shima could very well have been forced to take risks that he had never before thought of taking — but that is not the way she chose to write this story; skip to loafer is written on the basis of love, and there is nothing more tender and painful than the struggle for self-love.

in the end, we had a chapter that wanted to show two very different characters but, in fact, ended up showing how the similarities are found in details that would most likely be ignored or overlooked due to the behavior or the way the characters were developed.

this is a technique that i really like in sensei's writing. it always tends to put into combat two characters who, on the surface, have no similarity at all just to then unravel them and make them connect in the end. i don't think this means that we will see a big change in the relationship between shima and ujiie (but i, personally, would love to see the two being friends or at least colleagues), after all habits are difficult to break, especially after just one event. but i believe this showed us readers new ways of reading them. now we have a more in-depth idea of ​​ujiie and his interpersonal relationships and we have a new shima who prefers to face what eats at him instead of absorbing everything for himself.

i'm very glad sensei chose to write this chapter and not jump straight to the trip. we do need a little more ground to stand on before facing what comes next, because that will take a lot from shima and his new power and confidence he found. he would not be able to face mitsumi if he didn't face himself or people who don't believe in him first — he needs to find his own strength to fight this new battle.

as always, thank you for reading 💛 hope you guys liked the thread and the chapter as well!! remember: if you can, please help sensei by buying the chapters or the volumes. also sorry for any mistakes. thank you thank you!!!!

[dancingtotuyo]

15. holding my breath for you

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt /comfort, gore, violence, TLOU II SPOILERS, Major Character Death

Notes: I would say sorry... but I'm not sure I am. I LOVE YOU ALL DEARLY THOUGH!

If you haven’t seen this beautiful commission of Joel and Reader yet, you should.

Words: 6125

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Dawn is just forming when you roll over to find Joel’s side of the bed cold. A pout forms on your lips before you can open your eyes. He’s due to set out on patrol this morning and didn’t wake you up. He’s supposed to wake you up before he leaves. It’s the rule. 

You check on the kids to make sure they’re still asleep before trekking down to the stables. You pull the worn robe tightly around you as the wind whips at your hair and fresh snowfall threatens above you. You should’ve changed out of your pajamas, pulled on your boots and coat, but you fully intend to climb back into bed after this. They should still be there. Their patrol isn’t scheduled to leave for another 10 minutes. You find Joel in the stall at the end, diligently inspecting the saddle.

“You didn’t wake me up.” You cross your arms.

His head snaps up, a small smirk forming on his lips as he takes in your disheveled look. “You looked too cute this morning.”

“It’s the rule, Miller. We have rules for a reason. You always wake me up.” You put on a pout, but Joel sees through the teasing mannerisms, the stress that always creases your brow before patrols, especially overnight and snowy ones. 

“I’m sorry.” His hands grab your waist, pulling you against his sturdy frame as he kisses your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“Maybe.” 

He kisses your cheek. You don’t give in. He kisses your other cheek, then your neck, behind your ear until you're laughing like you’re a teenager and not almost 50 years old. He chuckles. It’s the kind that could and has kept you warm through the most brutal of winters. 

“Okay, Okay.” You throw your hands up in surrender. They settle on his shoulders. “I forgive you.”

“Good.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips. “They’re closer than we thought. We’ll probably be out there a few days, back in time for Willa’s dance recital. I promise.” 

“You better.” You push down the anxiety that rises. This is your least favorite kind of patrol. “She’s been practicing nonstop.”

“I know.” Joel sees it in your eyes, hears it in your voice. His arms wrap around you, burying his head into your neck. “She’s gonna be the prettiest damn butterfly up there.”

You lean into his warmth. You don’t sleep well alone. The kids get grumpy without him around. His breath is hot in your ear. “I’ll be back before you know it, Sweetheart.” 

You squeeze him tight and then his lips are on yours, soft and sweet. 

Tommy clears his throat. “You ready to go? You don’t have time to take her back to bed, Joel.” 

You flip him off. Joel gives you another sturdy kiss for good measure. Tommy rolls his eyes. 

You walk with them to the front of the stables, Joel’s free hand in yours. “Be safe.” 

“Always.” He squeezes your hand. 

He’s about to mount his horse, but quickly changes paths. Handing Tommy his mare’s reins, he kisses you again until you’re both breathless. Tommy shakes his head, teasing grin on his lips from on top of his horse. Joel smiles at you like you hold his whole world because you do. “I love you.”

“Stay safe out there,” you say as Joel takes the reins back, mounting the horse. “I love you.”

“Always, Darlin.” He winks at you.

You look at Tommy. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Tommy chuckles. “As if I could start now.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “We’re losing daylight, little brother.” 

You step back. Joel winks at you. “Love you,” and then they’re off. 

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. The words echo in Joel’s mind. There are too many of them. How did they all get here? Jackson is supposed to be too far out for this many infected. His mind races, desperately scanning for an out, while also trying to keep himself and Tommy alive.

Then the girl shows up, like a light in the darkness offering up a plan of escape. He takes it. Who wouldn’t? He wants to see his family again. He doesn’t ask or wonder what the girl is doing here with a group of friends. There’s no time for caution. It’s a way to get out- a way back. The only thing on his mind is getting back to you in one piece. 

Once they’re safely behind the gate, inside the house- he knows this place. It’s yours- well your grandparents. It starts to sink in. He counts at least 8. He sees the looks between them when he introduces himself. Something's not right. 

“Say, what brings y’all out here?”

The room is quiet. They’re staring at him like he should know them, but they’re too young to have known him before. He exchanges a look with Tommy. Then there’s a shotgun in his face. Before he can comprehend that this is the end, it goes off at his knee. Joel yells out in pain. He can see his femur. His arms are pinned. A tourniquet is placed around his thigh to keep him from bleeding out. Two of the other guys hold Tommy back. 

The girl, Abby, holds a golf club. Of all the ways Joel imagined dying, this was not it. He can hardly hear her through the pain and the thoughts swirling in his mind. There’s no getting out of this. There’s no help on the way. This is the end. It hits him like a blow to the chest. There’s no seeing Willa’s dance retail on Wednesday. No more playing catch with Carter. No chance for Ellie to forgive him. No more holding you. 

The words hurt as they come out. It feels like giving up because it is. “Just get it over with.” 

His words seem to anger Abby. He doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t know who her friends are, but he knows he’s about to die. He knows the look in their eyes. He’s all too acquainted with revenge. 

Then another thought pops into his head as his eyes move from Abby’s. It’s the dark stain in front of the fireplace. It could pass off as dirt and grime now. You spent years trying to get it out, but he knows it’s blood. Carter’s blood. He can’t let this happen here. He can’t give you another reason to hate this place. Another bad memory to tarnish the good ones. 

“This won’t be fast.” The golf club collides with his ribs. 

He coughs, sputtering as his lungs struggle to recover from the blow. Abby paces in front of him stalking like a predator does to its prey. Taunting him. 

“Please,” he wheezes. “Not here. Somewhere…” he inhales deeply. “Somewhere else.”

Abby seems taken aback by the request. 

“Anywhere but here.” It hurts to draw breath, but it’s getting easier. “Outside-“

“So you can freeze before I’m done? I don’t think so.” 

Abby’s foot collides with his face. There’s the unmistakable crunch of a broken nose. Blood flows from it. 

“Please. Not here.” He meets her eyes. The golf club strikes his lungs again. 

Joel sees it. She won’t give in. He’s going to die here. His blood will mingle with your brother’s. He’s failed you. 

He lets his brain take him away from what’s happening, but each blow brings him back to reality. He’s thinking about you, the last thing he said. Did he tell you he loved you? The next hit knocks the air out of him. He left the house without waking you up. He almost left without seeing you this morning. He’s pretty sure the next one hits a kidney. He thanks whatever god is there you woke up. That he got to see you one last time, feel your lips against his. 

One of his ribs cracks. 

He waited too goddamn long to tell you he loves you. He didn’t say it nearly enough in the short time he had. 

Two more ribs shatter. 

Maria comes over to the clinic after watching the blizzard roll over the mountains. It’s hitting Jackson now, but you're worried about the people sent out there today, the ones who sit at your family table in particular. Ellie, Dina, and Jesse left a few hours after Joel and Tommy 

You’re organizing shelves to keep yourself busy, sure at least one person will wander in with frostbite shortly. It’s a good distraction from the other worries at hand. 

“Willa ready for her dance recital?”

“I can barely get her out of the wings to go to bed.” A smile flutters over your lips.

Maria laughs. “I was talking to Rachel last night. She’s running around like crazy trying to make sure they have everything ready.”

“I bet… I’m glad they’re doing this though. It’s been an especially cold winter.”

You’d lost more patrols to the cold than to Infected this year. That hadn’t happened before. 

“They’ll be okay,” Maria says. “Always are.”

The radio crackles to life before you can respond. Your stomach drops. Only two outposts have radios. You only use them in emergencies, preferring to stay off the radios whenever possible. 

“Outpost 2 to base.” Dina’s voice filters through the static affected by the ensuing storm. 

Your stomach drops. Maria picks up the receiver. “Base to Outpost 2- Dina is that you?”

“Maria?” 

“Dina, is everyone okay?”

Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest. It’s a stupid question. You don’t use the radios when everything is okay. Outpost 2 is a 4-hour ride from here. In the blizzard, it’s probably longer. You start putting your kit together. 

“I don’t know- Jesse said Joel and Tommy missed their check-in.” The supplies in your hands clatter to the floor. You make eye contact with Maria. “We split up to look for them. I’m going to head toward the Baldwin Mansion to find Ellie. No trace of them this way.” 

You freeze, heart stopping. Not there. Anywhere but there. You lock eyes with Maria. “You shouldn’t-” But her words set your resolve.

“I’m going.” 

“It’s not safe-”

“It’s Joel and Tommy!” 

You don’t want to. You swore you’d never go back there, but this is Joel. If you aren’t there to help him, you’ll never forgive yourself. 

“Maria?” Dina comes through fuzzy as the blizzard interferes with the frequency. 

You can probably make it there about the same time Dina will. It won’t be easy, but you can do it. You have to. You stuff a few more things into your backpack.

“We’ll meet you there.”

“Be careful, there’s definitely a colony coming in.”

“You too.”

Maria drops the receiver, looking at you. “I’ll go have them saddle up a couple of horses, check out a few firearms.” 

You nod, focused on what to bring. You don’t have time to spare tears. Tears will freeze as soon as you’re outside and dehydrate you. 

You meet Maria by the stables. She hands you a rifle and a pistol. It’s been a long time since you rode out like this. You both know the implications if you don’t come back, but you don’t hesitate when the gate opens. 

Infected, burnt to a crisp, are pushed to the side and the gate is wide open when you arrive. It’s an eerie sight. Someone was here. 

A horse whinnies in the distance. The snow has slowed down but still creates a cover. You pull the pistol from the holster at your thigh, adrenaline pumping. Two figures come into view. 

“It’s us!” Dina calls out. Jesse rides beside her. You relax some, but your anxiety still rides high. 

You find Joel and Tommy’s horses in the garage. It’s all wrong. They wouldn’t have left the gate open, not with all those infected out there even burnt up. You keep your guard up as you clear the house room by room. Jesse and Dina don’t ask how you seem to know this place like the back of your hand. You avoid the den, leaving it for last. You hope to hear their playful banter drifting from room to room, but the house is silent. 

When you come to the den, you let the others take the lead. You’re struggling to keep your hands steady, and before you can enter the room, you hear their curses. You smell the blood before you see it. It’s splattered on everything around. Then you see him. Joel, your Joel, laying in his own blood. Your ears ring, pressure building between them. Your vision turns red. It’s so familiar and Carter’s limp body flashes before your eyes. A sob gets stuck in your throat. Maria’s arms are around you, keeping you upright before you realize your legs have given out. You stare at him. You wish you could stop looking at it, but you can’t as the sight sears itself into your memory. 

For the first time, your prayer changes. Please, let him be dead. You shudder. Because if he’s not dead, he’s suffering, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Dina rouses Ellie on the other side of the room. Jesse helps Tommy into a sitting position. They seem okay, physically, but your brain barely comprehends it all. You look at him, battered and bruised. The bone of his right knee is exposed. It’s the work of a shotgun at close range. There’s a tourniquet around his thigh. Your stomach drops. This wasn’t some random hit. They wanted him alive as long as possible. 

Your eyes drift around the room. A bloodied golf club lays in front of the fireplace. Joel’s fresh red blood drips over the fading remnants of your brother’s causing bile to burn in your throat. 

“You have to do something.” Ellie looks at you. Tears streak her face. Anger and rage fit for a grown man rattle her small frame. “You’re the only one who can help him!”

You shake your head. The tears fall freely now. You try to get the words out, but it's like someone has shoved cotton down your throat. Your tongue flops uselessly in your mouth. “Ellie- I can’t-” Your words are scattered and disjointed. Maria cradles your head against her chest, “There’s-” 

Joel groans. Your heart stops. The world goes silent. He does it again. This time, one of his fingers twitches.

“Oh my God…” Maria breaths. 

Tommy curses under his breath. You feel it heavy in your chest. Fuck. 

None of it’s from relief. It’s pure horror. Because you all know, he’s not coming back from this. 

Ellie rushes forward. She touches Joel’s hand. You see the hope radiating as she locks eyes with you. “You can still save him.”

It’s a stab to your chest. “No, I can’t.”

You watch the light flicker from her eyes. “You have to! You fucking have to!” The tears flood her eyes. “C’mon, Joel. You have to get up! Fucking get up!” 

She presses on his shoulder in an attempt to get him to his back. He groans out in pain. The knife in your chest twists. 

She stops, choking on her tears. “Joel… please get up.” Her voice is weaker now. Her pants soak with dark red. 

He grunts out something that sounds something like “Ellie.” 

“You motherfucker.” She cries, but it’s an endearment. You catch the slight uptick of Joel's colorless lips. Ellie can’t stop crying. Trying to wipe the tears away, she leaves streaks of blood on her cheeks. Joel tries, but he can’t get anything else out. 

You lean further into Maria’s grasp but she can’t squeeze you tight enough, only Joel could ever do that. 

Something in Ellie snaps. The tears stop, and her breathing settles. It’s like watching a person go from human to robot, except she looks more like the girl you met 7 years ago, and less the angry young woman you’ve come to know. There’s a telepathy going on between them. You’ve seen it so many times before. Her hand rests on top of his. Her head nods like she knows what he’s trying to say. 

“I forgive you.” 

It knocks the air from your lungs. Tommy’s too. You know what it’s about. You know how big this moment is. The weight on your chest lightens a little bit. 

Ellie looks up at you, and motions you toward them. “He wants you.” 

She moves from Joel’s side, making space for you. You lay down next to him, not caring about the blood-soaked carpet around and the way it bleeds into your clothes. Gently, you run your fingers through his blood-matted hair. “Hey, Baby.” You’re careful not to cause more pain with your touch.  

His eyes meet yours. You see the sparkle of tears in them. He attempts to talk again in a long slow slur. You can barely make it out. “I’m sorry” 

The knife is pulled from your chest cavity, the pain so physical you shudder. His index finger moves over your left knuckle and your chest shakes again. You force a smile. You just want him to be at peace, “It’s okay, Joel.” 

His head shakes briefly, barely noticeable, but you’re tuned in to his every movement, his every breath, his every heavy heartbeat. “It’s okay.” You kiss his hand, then his forehead. It’s sweaty and the tang of blood hits your senses. “We’ll be okay. You can let go.” You whisper it in his ear. A tear rolls down his cheek. You want him to let go so fucking badly. You don’t want to do what’s required. What you wouldn’t do for Carter. 

His lips move but nothing comes out. It seems to frustrate him. Tears roll down your cheeks. He’s trapped in a body that doesn’t work but refuses to let him go. “Shhhh, I know, Joel. I know.” It’s the same voice you used to soothe your infants. “I love you.”

His hand squeezes yours gently. You give him a nod. He lets his eyes flutter closed. You lay there for longer than you should. It’s selfish, but you don’t think you’ll be able to do it if you don’t take your time. Finally, you sit up. Tommy comes over to say his goodbyes. You’re not paying attention, too focused on what you have to do. 

His hunting knife is still strapped to his ankle like it always is. You look it over even though you’ve seen it a million times. It’s big enough. It’ll work. You just pray you can go through with it. Maria joins Tommy at Joel’s side.

“Jesse?” you say. “Will you get a blanket to cover him. There should be a big comforter in the hallway closet.”

You catch the confusion in his eyes. How would you know that? But he nods, following your instructions without questions. You lay the knife on the floor and catch Ellie staring at it. You see it in her eyes. She knows what’s about to happen. You hope she doesn’t blame you. 

You can’t meet her eyes as you whisper it out. “It’s what-”

“I know.” She says quickly, her voice still wavering. “I know.”

“Tommy, help me get him on his back. I don’t-“ you choke up. You let the tears flow freely, but you will your medical training to take over. Except, this isn’t fucking medical care. It’s not even fucking palliative care. It’s cruel mercy. You aren’t trained in that. “I don’t think I can do it properly with him on his stomach.” 

You, Tommy, and Maria work together to get him on his back as gently as possible. He cries out with each movement. It’s torturous. Each noise comes from a deeper part of his body. You swallow back bile each time. You have to get this right the first time. If you don’t, you’re not sure you can do it a second. 

Jesse drops the comforter beside you. It’s the one with little pink rose buds, the one you always used to sleep under the stars, big enough to curl around you like a cocoon even as a grown adult, the one you and Joel picnicked on when you visited last. Your fingers run over it with the memories- so many nights spent under the stars dreaming of the future. It provides you with little comfort now. It's purely practical, thick enough to absorb whatever blood Joel has left in him. More memories washed in blood.  

Ellie is huddled in the corner, back turned to it all. Dina is at her side. Maria never takes her eyes off you. Finally, he’s on his back. You unbutton his flannel, use the knife to cut open his under shirt. Deep, dark bruises mare his skin. You can see where they targeted the most. Places to inflict maximum pain and prolong suffering. You focus at the place between his left ribs. His breathing is labored. You hear it with each breath, see it in the rise and fall of his chest. The spot on his chest taunts you, dares you to do it. 

You turn to Maria. “As soon as it’s out… cover him with the blanket.” You don’t want to see the wound.

You look at his face. You think he’s unconscious now. You pray he doesn’t feel it, hope his brain has taken him away from reality. Pressing your forehead to his, you tell him you love him again. There’s no response and no indication he hears you. 

You steady your breathing. “Ellie?” You look to her for permission. 

She barely meets your eyes but nods. 

You look back to Joel. You mentally clear the blood from his features. He looks peaceful now. You memorize his face as you know it, not how it appears. You look down at his ribs again. You touch the space and count with shaking hands.

You glance at the 17 year old stain reminding you of the way you failed Carter. You won’t fail Joel. You can almost feel your brother’s ghost at your side, assuring you this is the only option, assuring you there’s truly no chance to save the man you love, and it comforts you. This place homes your best memories and your worst nightmares. You wonder if Joel’s ghost will stay here, pacing the halls with Carter’s or follow you home. 

Then you recount the ribs, making sure you get it right through the blur of your vision. You feel his heart beating under your hand, the very heart you’re about to stop. You can do this…

There’s a hand on your shoulder, another on your wrist. Tommy crouches behind you. He takes the knife without a word. His eyes say it all. He’ll do it. You don’t have to bear the weight of it. You should tell him that he doesn’t have to bear it either, but you don’t because the truth is you’re just relieved you don’t have to. 

You lay a finger on Joel’s chest. Tommy’s replaces it. “Make sure-”

“I know.” Tommy’s eyes meet yours. You’ve never really contemplated how much they look like Joel’s until now. It’s reassuring. There’s a piece of Joel in him. “Just be with him.” 

You nod silently, Joel’s words echoing in your mind. “If it’s something else that gets me… where I’m not putting you in danger… I want the last thing I hear to be your voice. Not a gunshot. That’s all.” 

You scoot up so you’re only able to see his face. His hand feels cold under yours. You push his hair back again. Ellie joins you on the floor. You can tell she’s barely holding it together. 

You feel Tommy prepare himself behind you. You know when he goes for it, sliding Joel’s hunting knife in with the precision of an expert. You hear it slice through skin and muscle. It’s piercing, playing on repeat in your head. Joel grunts with it, moans once it’s withdrawn. 

Tommy drops the knife like it's on fire. Maria settles the blanket over Joel’s body.

Your eyes never move from his face. He gasps, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon. It’s awful. It makes your stomach curl and twist and your chest rattle. You want to curl up and die with him at the mere sound of it. It feels like it will never stop, but you talk him through it. You hold Ellie close to you in one arm and cup his face in the other as you repeat the words from earlier. 

It’s okay. 

You can let go. 

We’ll be okay. 

I love you. 

You make sure your voice is the last thing he hears… and then finally, mercifully, he stops breathing. As much as your heart throbs, you feel like you can finally breathe again because he’s no longer trapped in a body that won’t work, no longer in pain. He’s free. 

You lean down to kiss his cheek. You whisper in his ear. “Say hello to Sarah for me.” 

You give it time. Watching his face, finger tips tracing his features. Denial brushes through your mind, expecting him to open his eyes, to smile, to laugh. It doesn’t happen. It won’t happen ever again. 

When you stand, it hits you like a freight train. Your breath hitches. You remember this from last time.This can’t happen, not here. You bolt from the room, putting as many walls between you and the others as possible. You don’t care how cold the furthest bedroom- your bedroom- might be, your skin feels like it’s boiling, melting from your bones. 

You’re barely across the threshold when the sob leaves your body. It sounds otherworldly, but you’ve heard it before, too many times. You’re all too familiar with it all. When will it end? When everyone you love is dead? Taken from you in different horrific ways each time? 

Maria’s arms wrap around you and the two of you sink to the ground. You don’t quiet your mourning for her as it rattles the walls. It’s still not far enough. Your muted cries haunt the rest of the group until your voice gives out. 

You stay the night at the mansion. It’s too dark to try and make it back to Jackson. Tommy and Jesse move Joel’s body to the garage where it’s colder. Maria builds a fire in the room that’s not soaked in his blood. 

You ignore the curious looks when you navigate the house with familiarity and manage to rummage up new clothes to replace blood-soaked ones. Ellie wears your Fleetwood Mac t-shirt from high school. You used to wear it all the time until you lost it, stuffed into the bin of clothes you never opened following outbreak day. It would be too small for you now, but it layers over the clean long sleeve shirt she found. It’s one of Grandpa’s old flannels for you. You’re thankful you never dug into this bin when you lived here. 

Before you leave, you stop under the old oak tree where the small bounder marks Carter’s shallow grave. You promise him you mean it this time when you say you’re never coming back. You’re tempted to burn the place to the ground, but it’s too good of a resting spot for patrol when they get stuck, protected by the gate. 

When you get home, you care for Joel’s body. There’s no embalming process. Usually you bury your dead the day after, but the ground is frozen solid. You’ll likely have to wait a few weeks to bury him. He stays in the small enclosed room off the back of the clinic where it’s cold enough to keep him. 

It’s after dinner time Monday night when you finally drag yourself up the front steps. You’ve been avoiding it. You don’t want to go home without him. 

Carter and Willa play Jenga with Morgan. You’re not sure you can tell them, so you watch your children through the front window. You memorize their smiles and the light in their eyes before this cruel world marks them with its claws. Willa knocks the tower over. She seems to enjoy it. His sweet little Wildflower. 2 months shy of her 4th birthday, will she remember him? Or will he be like a dream? Another ghost that haunts the footnotes of her life? Tears stream down your neck. 

“They don’t know yet?”

You spin around to find Ellie. She has dark bags under her eyes, shoulders slumping. “No, I just got home. I’ve been at the clinic all day.”

Ellie nods, peering into the window beside you. The two of you watch as they rebuild the tower and the game starts all over again. “I forget how much she looks like him.”

You manage a smile. “I’m not convinced she has a drop of my DNA in her.”

“Not with that fucker’s genes.”

A laugh interrupts your tears. It sounds so normal coming from Ellie. She wears a dutiful interpretation of her signature smirk. You could hug her, but you don’t. She’s not the most touchy feel y person and you imagine she’s had her full share the past 24 hours. Has he really been gone that long now? Yes. Somehow, it feels like it’s been years, yet you still expect him to walk toward you at any minute. 

You go inside without another word. Ellie follows, and you’re thankful for it. It feels right to have her there. 

“Mommy!” Willa gasps as soon as you open the door. She runs for you, still dressed in her butterfly costume. 

You pull her into your arms, squeezing her tightly. “Hey sweet girl.” You kiss her cheek. You hadn’t realized how badly your arms ached to hold your babies. 

“Where’s Dad?” Carter asks.

The question stops your heart. You can hear it in his voice. He knows. He’s barely 10, but he’s seen this in other people so many times before, and he’s put the pieces together. Death isn’t a foreign concept to him. He probably knew the moment he saw Tommy come home with Joel nowhere in sight. Carter keeps space between you. “Where is he?” 

Willa squirms in your arms like she's looking for Joel now too. You let her slide to the ground. 

“Carter…” You move closer. 

He steps backwards. You see the tears sparkle in his eyes bringing out your own. Both your children favor their biological fathers more than yourself. It slices deeper tonight. You manage to steady your voice. 

“Dad had a really bad accident while he was on patrol-“

“You’re lying! He has to come back! He always comes back!”

Maybe one day you’ll tell him all of it. Someone did this on purpose, but you don’t know who or why. He’s too young. You won’t have him overrun with the idea of revenge. Tommy is already plotting after the group that did this. 

You shake your head, tears falling again. You don’t know if they’ll ever stop. You go to your son, desperate to hold him, but he dashes upstairs, bedroom door slamming behind him. Do you go after him? 

Willa’s arms wrap around your leg. You fall to the stairs, placing her in your lap. Your body is exhausted. Ellie sits down next to you. “Where did daddy go?” 

You’ve been wracking your brain all day on how this will all make sense in her young mind. “You know how Daddy talks about Sarah?” 

She nods. You push back her soft brown curls. The texture has started to change in the past six months. It feels less silky and fine, and more like his. “He said she died, but she watches over us now.”

“Yeah… that’s right-“ you bite your lip. “Daddy went to be with Sarah.”

“When is he coming back?”

Ellie cringes in your periphery. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. “Willa… Daddy died. He can’t come back.”

“Not even for my recital?”

“No.”

You’re still not sure she gets it, but you see the tears well up in her eyes. Joel promised her he would be there. He always kept his promises. You want her to know that her Daddy didn’t abandon her, but it’s difficult to get that across. To her, Sarah is an abstract. Joel is concrete. The thought sends a pang through your chest.

“You know how your heart beats?” You put her hand over your heart. She nods. “That means you’re alive, and me, and Ellie, and Carter. We all have beating hearts.”

“I listen to Daddy’s when he rocks me.” 

You smile. The vision of Willa and Joel passed out in the rocking chair is one of your favorites. “Daddy’s heart got really hurt.” The slice of the knife echoes in the caverns of your mind. “It stopped beating.” 

His wheezing plays in your ears.  

“He stopped being alive?”

Joel’s final strangled breath carves into your brain.

 You nod carefully. “Yes, once that happens, it can’t be fixed.”

She sits with it for a minute. You see the wheels in her head turning. 

“He didn’t have a choice.” You wrap one of her curls around your finger.  “He would choose to be alive with us if he could.” 

“I miss him.” 

She lays her head on your shoulder. You kiss her head. 

“Me too, Wildflower.”

On Wednesday night, the seat beside you remains empty, like everyone is purposefully keeping it that way. You’re not sure if you like it. Is it a sign of respect toward Joel? Or are they afraid to be near you? Death comes in threes. It must be contagious. 

Carter sits between Ellie and Dina. They were sitting next to each other when you arrived. Carter still doesn’t want to talk to you, but he will talk to Ellie. 

The lights dim for the recital. It’s more of a silent movie of sorts. Rachel plays the piano. The music changes throughout the scenes. You spent all last night trying to get a grass stain out of Willa’s butterfly costume. You’re not sure if it was the soap or the tears that removed the last of it. 

You reach over on instinct, expecting your fingers to meet a denim clad thigh, but your hand falls to the wooden chair instead. Your eyes drift out the window. You can see the clinic at the end of the street. You know exactly where he lays, even from the outside. Everything around you blurs. You feel pieces of yourself slowly drift into the atmosphere bit by bit. 

Maria drops into the chair next to you. She grabs your hand squeezing it between both of hers. “Hey, I’ve got you” The pieces come back, snapping together like a jigsaw puzzle. “Look,” She points. “Willa’s almost up. You don’t want to miss it.”

You’re back, but Maria doesn’t let go. She anchors you. She knows exactly what to say to do it. She’s an expert in it by now. You don’t see the worry in her eyes, the guilt etched in the lines of her forehead. She doesn’t say it, never expresses the guilt she carries over what happened. If only she had asked someone else to take the shift. It’s the second time she’s failed you. 

Willa flits and flutters across the stage. In the context of the play, you’re pretty sure she’s actually supposed to be a fairy, but you know that Willa was only interested in being a butterfly. The costume is the same either way. 

She breaks character for a moment, loudly telling one of the other kids they are not where they are supposed to be, and then continues on as if nothing happened. There’s the rumble of laughter and Willa wears a smug smile. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, but when you turn to look, no one is there. You can still feel the pressure on your shoulder. Then you hear it just behind your ear, That’s our Wildflower right there. It brings tears to your eyes again. 

With one last exuberant twirl the magical fairy, or in this case butterfly, heals the land. 

You squeeze Maria’s hand as people stand to applaud. You manage to get to your feet in time to watch your daughter take a bow and then another and another. She’s soaking in the attention. It tugs a smile to your face. 

When Willa bounces off the stage, you pull her in tight. “You were so good. I’m so proud of you,  Wildflower.” 

She smiles brightly. It's a relief in one of the worst times of your life. She gets close to your ear, like she’s telling you a secret. “I think Daddy saw it. I think him and Sarah watched it together.”

You smile back at her. You know they did. “Me too.”

Tag List: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[eveledoze]

spoilers for ep7 ! things about N and Uzi i wanted to point out 2/?

I like that he smiled at Nori's words, as if he himself met his old friend. but in reality it's not that cool. he seemed familiar to her, so did she see him before? again thoughts that it was he who killed her body huh (while her heart remained alive)

Nori turned out to be not as silly and playful as we all thought (which is sad a lil bit), but on the other hand she is quite a badass and confident woman. and it makes me wonder more about what she saw in Khan... but hey, despite some time apart she calls him hunk! i hope that if she is reunited with him, she will find a new body for herself, since it will be awkward to meet only the heart of your wife-

hearing N say Khan's name, Nori becomes tense. what kind of friends does my daughter have huh

after Nori tells a little story, N acts sweet and friendly as always, clapping for her, and Nori throws a rock at him, telling him to stop. i love how much she looks like her daughter, she does things to make N stop doing stupid things btw it’s funny that she, being a small body, chained him, such a big one, to the wall with a pickaxe for safety

when she asks who is the host of the solver at the moment, N smiles slightly, saying "Uzi", despite the fact that the situation is tense

ok, I didn’t understand this moment right away, but now I understand. "which one (Doll or Uzi) tried to eat us right now?" he realizes that it is none of them

he says in such a joyful tone “she will fall when she finds out that I met her mother” :з but then Nori pinned him to the wall again, forcing him to remain silent about it. it's funny how she openly admits that she is the cause of all the nightmares in Uzi's life, so she thinks that if Uzi finds out she is alive, it will cause problems. N says in a decisive tone that he doesn't want to keep secrets from Uzi anymore, since he has already seen what this can lead to - a loss of trust. the moment from ep2 when he wanted to touch her shoulder, but she backed away, and when just recently he went to her, but she stepped back. seeing your loved one afraid of you and losing trust in you is a very painful thing

she presses the cross on him so hard that cracks appear on the ground, she is really serious

N promises, after which she looks a little surprised and as if grateful, but then she realizes that there will be some kind of catch

and she's not wrong. he got out of this situation so that he didn’t have to lie to Uzi and keep everything secret. Nori rolls her eye, realizing that it couldn’t have been otherwise and this guy wouldn’t be convinced and yeah she said THE LIINEEE

wild N oh........that's something I think Nori told N that there is a way to weaken the solver so that it does not cause problems. and since he guessed that Tessa knew about this, now her pressure for N to choose the universe and not the little drone sounds strange. if it is possible to weaken/ get rid of/ heal of the solver, then why kill Uzi? and Tessa had a clear desire to get rid of the Uzi. in essence, she gave him free rein, saying that he will make the choice, but at the same time she said that he would have to choose the universe

after which he cuts off her head, with an X on his visor. it was intense. the robot disobeyed his boss and a good friend. not fully understanding who the person you knew for a long time was. did you make the right choice

he immediately woke up from shock when he saw Uzi's hand on the cross and started helping her get up. his voice sounds pitiful, worried, but at the same time joyful, since he saw her again after what happened. N's voice trembles a little, but he still sounds sincere. he doesn't want to scare her off again

oh yeah and now that line is heartbreaking- he extends his hand to her, he needs her and emphasizes the word "you"

when watching the teaser his "together?..." at the end of the phrase sounded uncertain, pleading, as if he wasn’t sure that she would agree to solve everything together. but now, watching it, I hear in his “together?” hope and joy, as if he understands that it is with her that he can overcome everything and figure things out, and he is glad that he was able to find her and she did not reject him. at the words "to figure things out.." he sounds uncertain, lost and a little sad, but then he sees her placing her hand in his. his cross disappears and at the same time he blushes. she was able to calm him down from shock simply by touching his hand.

i know that before this I made a post “if a character blushes it doesn’t mean they're in love” and I’m a little embarrassed, but damn.. it really looks like that in here, right? we know that Uzi was the first one who started to fall in love with him and after some time he started to develop feelings for her. and at this point he may have accepted it

and should I mention that they immediately lace their fingers together, whereas the last time they held hands it was very awkward for them?

and then he smiles

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 37: Pieces

Mitchum sends you to where he wants you as Joel questions Cody. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-36 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and several steps beyond that. Fairly graphic torture (not of reader.) Mention of past sexual assault, not described. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 6k

A/N: As with the last chapter, I want to state, real quick, that Bambi is NOT going to be sexually assaulted again. This is a highly triggering subject and, given the situation she's in, I understand if folks are bracing for it. That's not going to happen. The threat of it is there but it's not going to happen.

We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. This character returns THIS CHAPTER. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

They were talking about you like you weren’t there. 

You’d been used to that once but it had been a long time since you’d been just a thing, separate from that life about as long as you’d suffered it. You had forgotten just how much you hated this part of being a prisoner. You’d internalized so many of the more acute horrors that the smaller things had slipped away, but the change from human being to livestock was sharp. You didn’t have much in you to fight against anything - still barely able to stand - but it seemed what little there was faded quickly just listening to the men talk about you as though you were some unruly animal. 

“Take her back to the main camp,” Mitchum said, taking your arm and turning you around so he could look you over. “She’s good on a horse, don’t let her near the reins. Don’t be stupid enough to think this one won’t take off just because she’s down some fingers, she’s a feral thing. That fucking moron… Get her there and don’t fuck her, understand? She’s mine and I gotta make sure she’s broken in right. Been wild too long, gonna have to start from scratch.” 

He took your chin in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his own. 

“Gonna bring you back where you belong,” he said. “I tamed you once, I can do it again.” 

You didn’t say anything, all your energy going in to keeping yourself standing. You tried to think about something, anything, beyond how close Mitchum was to you again, every alarm bell your body had ringing. Where his fingers were on you burned and your heart raced, the blood loss and fear making your head spin.

The only thing that could be worse than being this close to him again was Savvy and Ellie being this close to him. The thought that you’d saved them from this was a small comfort. You hoped they made it back. You had to believe they made it. You weren’t sure you’d have the strength to keep going otherwise. They made it, they made it back to Jackson, they were safe there. 

But the men were talking about Jackson, too. Like it was something they could take. What’s worse, they sounded confident that they could do it. It was something that had seemed impossible when you were within the walls, everything so strong and permanent. How could the will of men destroy something like that? But now that you were here, back in the grip of what terrified you, it didn’t seem so impossible anymore. Jackson was just people, too. Good people, strong people who had decided to survive and work and love alongside each other but people all the same. It doesn’t take some act of God to destroy a person, just one other, determined person can do the job. 

You couldn’t handle considering that, not when the only things in the world that mattered were dependent on Jackson to be safe. You had to believe that Jackson could withstand whatever came its way, that Ellie and Savvy had made it back, that they would be safe within its walls and would never have to face men like Mitchum and Cody again. They made it, they made it back to Jackson and they were safe. The whole city was.

You thought it over and over again in your head, a mantra of sorts, as they brought you to a horse and forced you on its back. You were too out of it to grab the reins immediately, a man mounting up in front of you before you could think twice about taking control of the animal. 

“Better not try anything back there if you know what’s good for you,” the man snapped before making the horse move. You just tried to stay upright and tried to think of ways to escape once you were strong enough to run. You had to resist the urge to try now, every nerve in your body on fire and driving you to run or fight. But you couldn’t. You’d never survive a fight right now and you’d only be able to walk a mile - maybe two - before you’d collapse and then they’d have you again. You needed to save your strength or you’d never get out. 

You tried to remind yourself that you’d done all this before. You’d survived what they did to you and made it out. You’d lived and built a life and found your daughter and protected what mattered. You’d done it once, you could do it again. You just had to survive. 

You focused on the people that you wanted to survive for - Savvy and Ellie and Joel and Maria and Tommy and William and Julie and and and - and tried to settle into the sway of the horse as it walked.

Time was strange like this, pulling and warping. It seemed like it was dark longer than it should have been when the sun started to rise and then, when the men stopped for a break, the sun seemed higher than it should have been. You drank water when it was offered. You watched for a chance to steal a horse - the only way you thought you’d be able to make it far in that moment - but didn’t get one. 

The light hadn’t yet taken on the soft, hazy quality of evening when you reached where you were headed. It was an unfamiliar place, a small subdivision - maybe two dozen houses total - with mountains at its back. There was a guarded perimeter, men in cowboy hats who gave the men you were with a nod as they rode in. 

They brought you to the center of the neighborhood, to a house that was small but looked to be in good repair, two men stationed outside. 

“Down,” the man you were riding with ordered. You obeyed, sliding off the horse and stumbling, head spinning. He dismounted more smoothly before grabbing you by the collar of your shirt - Joel’s shirt - and hauled you for the door, one of the guards meeting him there. He took a padlock off the front door before opening it and shoving you inside, past a small living room with a sunken sofa and a kitchen with counters covered in a thick layer of dust. He forced you down a hall to a bedroom. You were almost positive it had been a little girl’s room once but it had been stripped of all forms of childish comfort. There were two twin sized mattresses on the floor, tucked into corners on opposite pink walls. There had been carpet once, you were sure, but it had been pulled up, just the plywood below remaining. There was a bucket at the foot of each bed and some drywall had been pulled away near each bed, exposing the frame of the walls, chains wrapped around a stud near either bed. 

“On the bed,” the man ordered, shoving you toward it and making you stumble. You more fell onto the mattress than sat on it but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He approached you and you went to kick him, not about to let him just take what he wanted without a fight, but he caught your boot, giving you a sharp shake when he did. “Just making sure you don’t run. Sit still or this will hurt a lot more than it needs to.” 

He pulled your boot off before you had a chance to respond and tossed it near the door before picking up the chain. It was thick and heavy, no cuff on the end. He wrapped it around your ankle, tight enough that it cut into your flesh a little, and put a padlock through the loops to hold it in place. He gave it a testing pull and it didn’t budge. He nodded. 

“Recommend you rest while you can,” he said, dropping your leg. “Mitchum’s back in a day or two, don’t imagine you’ll have much while he’s here.” 

He turned to leave and you looked to the other mattress. There was a smear of blood near the chain that was still bright red, like it hadn’t dried yet. There was someone else who had been here, someone recently. The door closed and locked and you stretched out on the bed, trying to force your body and mind to still enough that you could rest. 

It didn’t work very well. You faded in and out of consciousness for a while - you weren’t entirely sure how long but you were fairly certain night had fallen. The window in the room was covered with yellowed newspaper but you were pretty sure you’d seen light coming through it earlier in the day. It was dark now. 

It took you a moment to realize what had pulled you back to consciousness. There was a scuffle outside your door, the sound of someone being wrestled inside. You shot up, scrambling to find something you might be able to use as a weapon but came up empty, the room stripped of anything that could be a tool and your mind still working slowly. You were still down a lot of blood. 

The door opened and you braced yourself to claw and bite but the man there paid you no mind. Instead, he shoved a tall, broad young woman in, one with a blonde fishtail braid that hung down her back. Something inside you twinged at the sight of her, a distant alarm bell ringing. She was familiar, you couldn’t see her face but you knew her. You could feel it.

The man forced her onto the opposite mattress and all but threw the chain around her ankle before locking it into place. 

“If you’re fuckin’ smart, you’ll behave yourself,” the man backed away from her, panting for breath with a cut on his cheek. “If you weren’t one of Mitchum’s favorite toys, I’d kill you myself.” 

“Fuck you,” she spat, lifting her head from the mattress, her teeth bared in a snarl. Your breath caught, the fingers from your intact hand groping for the chain attached to your ankle, your best hope for a weapon. 

You did know this woman - almost more of a girl in spite of her size and strength, she couldn’t be much older than Ellie and definitely young enough to be your daughter. You didn’t know her name or where she was from or why she had tried to murder your husband but you knew her, knew how she looked when she was filled with rage and desperate to kill a man. Knew how she looked as she beat Joel until he was bloody and half dead. Your grip on the chain tightened. 

The man left and you weren’t sure if the two of them had said anything else, the high pitched whine that had taken over your ears only just beginning to fade. 

She seemed to notice you then, straining to sit up, her eyes wide at first but narrowing when she reached your face. 

She recognized you, too. 

“You,” she was still panting for breath, leaning against the wall at her back, sneering at you. Watching you. “I should have known they’d find some other fucking way to torture me.” 

You watched her back, ready to defend yourself in case she made a move. 

“I could have said the same thing about you.” 

***

Joel wasn’t aware of much. 

There were gunshots but they were of little consequence. The screams didn’t register, either. Neither did the sweat on his neck or the pain in his back or the pull in his leg that had been there ever since he was shot by the girl who wanted him dead. 

He could feel your blood on his hands, though, and the feel of your fingers in his pocket and hear the thud of his heart and he could see. He could see Cody on his horse but he could see how you’d been afraid of him, too. That day in the stable when Joel held you and you were so scared you could barely stay standing. He could see how it would have happened, how this man would have cut away pieces of you. How scared you would have been, how you would have fought anyway, how you would have screamed. 

All Joel really knew in that moment was that he needed to hurt this man. He needed to take every ounce of pain from his body until there was nothing else left inside of him and he needed him to know, as he died, that he was dying for you. 

Cody tried to dodge Joel as he threw himself at him, the horse stutter stepping away as Cody tried to pull it back while also grabbing his gun. But he wasn’t fast enough, Joel’s hands closing around the edges of the man’s jacket as he yanked him to the ground, Cody’s gun flying into the trees. 

But Cody was not a small man and his thrashing weight threw Joel off balance, the two of them sprawling to the forest floor. Cody was younger and more agile and got to his feet first, pulling his knife free from his belt, lunging for Joel. But Joel was ready for him, kicking him in the gut so hard that it knocked the wind out of him and sent him stumbling back. He got to his feet, too, Cody leaning against a tree, knife out as he caught his breath. 

“You’re not gonna get her back,” he panted, a sneer on his face as he watched Joel. “She’s with him now and he’s not gonna let her go so easy this time. And when he’s done with her, don’t think you’ll even want her back.” 

There was commotion at Joel’s back but it barely registered. 

“I should have fucking killed you when I had the chance,” Joel said, watching him closely. “She was too good to you. She’s always been better than anyone left fuckin’ deserved, least of all you.” 

“And she should’ve known what I gave her when I let her go,” he said, standing up a little straighter now, breath caught. “Instead of being an ungrateful cunt.” 

Joel roared and threw himself at Cody, the other man striking out at him with his knife. He nicked Joel’s shoulder with the blade but he barely noticed it, the blow not really hurting so much as being filed away as information, things he would need to contend with at some point when Cody’s blood was cold on the ground. 

Joel threw a punch, catching Cody on the jaw and he stumbled for a moment before lunging at Joel, striking out with the knife again but falling short and following up with a clumsy fist after. Joel caught his hand and twisted it, the other man giving a sharp yelp. Joel liked the sound, the evidence of his pain soothing the gnawing desperation inside him. 

But his satisfaction was short lived, the knife slamming into Joel’s shoulder making him seize up for a moment. He was aware that it should hurt, that there was metal inside him now that didn’t belong, but all it did was bring everything into sharper focus. This knife was probably the one that had drawn your blood, too. It seemed right that he should suffer it with you after he’d failed at doing what he’d vowed to do. 

The split second of the shock of the stab passed quickly and Joel drove Cody back into the tree, slamming his back into the trunk of it and knocking the air out of him, his head hitting the bark with a sickening thud. Joel didn’t relent. Instead, he punched him across the face, one arm holding the man in place as he hit him again and again. 

This satisfaction held longer. Cody’s fingers scramble and clawed at Joel, trying to find purchase somewhere they could pull him away from his singular mission but that was impossible. Joel’s physical body didn’t matter to him anymore, not without you, and every small hurt was swallowed by the drive to destroy. 

“Joel!” Tommy’s arm looped around Joel’s neck, pulling him back from Cody who slipped down the tree trunk, his hands limp on the blood coated leaves, his chest still rising and falling, eyes blinking as he stared into space. Joel strained to pull away from Tommy’s grip but his brother held him firm as he panted for breath. “Joel, you can’t kill him yet, we need information. We kept one of the others alive but we need information or we’ll never find her. He’s alive, we need him to stay a live a little longer.” 

Joel slumped forward in Tommy’s grip and his hold on him loosened, starting to feel his body again. His knuckles hurt and were slick with blood. Joel wasn’t sure how much was Cody’s and how much was his own. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in his shoulder and he reached back with his other arm, flinching as he did, before taking hold of the knife and pulling the blade free. He heard Tommy wince as he did and Joel brought the weapon around in front of him, holding it up for a moment. His blood was slick over half the blade, the edge serrated. 

“You cut off my wife’s fingers with this?” Joel panted, squatting down to be on Cody’s level, holding the knife up. His own voice sounded odd to him, so normal when everything was so wrong. 

“Wait, what?” Ellie stalked over to him and Joel glanced up at her. There was a cut on her cheek and her eyes were wide. Joel turned back to Cody and reached into his pocket, gently pulling your fingers free before setting them on Cody’s stomach. “Motherfucker!” 

Joel barely registered the sound of Tommy wrestling Ellie away, too focused on the man in front of him to worry about anything else. 

“Did you cut off my wife’s fingers with this?” Joel said again, voice flat. 

Cody struggled to swallow and Joel took hold of his jaw, yanking his head around so he was looking right at him. 

“Answer the question.” 

Cody blinked a few times before taking a shaky breath. 

“Yes.” 

There was a rattle in his voice and blood on his teeth. 

“Good.” 

Joel took the knife and thrust it into his thigh, just over his knee. Cody screamed and squirmed uselessly under him and Joel waited, keeping constant pressure down on the blade, giving him no relief. 

As he quieted - gasping for breath, eyes wide and bloodshot - Joel pulled the knife from his leg and wiped the blood on his jeans. 

“Gonna hurt you like you hurt her,” he said, picking up Cody’s hand from the ground. He started trying to pull it away, heavy breaths shifting to hyperventilation, but Joel held firm, forcing the hand down to the man’s thigh. “What, you afraid of me usin’ your knife the way you do? That it? Can’t be that bad, can it?” 

“No,” he panted. “No, please, I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll…” 

Joel lined the blade up with the smallest knuckle on Cody’s pinky and cut through it in one devastating push, the man screaming and writhing and trying to pull his hand into his chest to comfort himself but Joel didn’t let him. 

“You’ll give me what I want?” Joel asked, putting the knife at the next joint down. “But what if what I want is my wife? What if what I want is your pain, hm? You give me that?” 

He cut again, the blade meeting more resistance this time. Joel pushed through it, the knife cutting through the denim of his jeans on the other side of his hand as he screamed again. Cody closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree and Joel resisted the urge to beat his face in. He had to leave him alive for a little while longer. 

And besides, he couldn’t take more pain from him if he was dead. 

“No, you don’t get to fuckin’ pass out on me,” Joel stabbed the knife through his hand, pinning it to his thigh before grabbing his hair by the fistful, bringing his head forward so it was only inches from Joel’s own. He could smell the blood on his skin, clearly see the trails of salt on his cheeks. “You get to be awake for this. Doubt you ever let her pass out, did you? Not about to do you any favors. Now, you focus on me, understand?” 

Cody managed a nod. Joel dragged the blade through is palm, between the webbing of his fingers, cutting a path through the delicate bones of his hand and the thick muscle of his thigh as Cody begged and screamed. The wound at Joel’s shoulder ached. He couldn’t bring himself to care about either thing. 

He held Cody’s hand in place again and gave him a second to quiet and catch his breath before lining the knife up at the base of his pinky. 

“Please,” he panted, eyes so desperate as they met Joel’s. “Please, I can’t…” 

“Can’t what?” Joel asked, brows raised. “Can’t survive what you did to her?” 

Joel cut, separating the bloody remains of the finger from Cody’s hand and casting it aside. Cody’s screams were growing hoarse and Joel ground his teeth. He still needed answers from him and he needed to be able to talk for that. 

He pulled the knife away, holding it firmly and watching as the other man caught his breath. 

“I can make this easier,” Joel said after a moment. “You tell me where she is? I kill you. Quick. Maybe not painless but not as bad as this. You’re not leavin’ here alive. Should have killed you in Jackson months ago. Hell, should have fucking found you years ago and killed you then but I didn’t. Not about to let you go again. But it’s up to you if how I kill you is for you or for me, if it’s fast or if it’s slow.”

“I…” the wet rattle of Cody’s breath was sharper now. “I can’t… I can’t trust you to do it quick…” 

“Yes you can,” Joel said. “You tell me where my wife is? I’m gonna go get her. Not gonna want to waste more time here with you. It’ll be quick if you just tell me.” 

Cody’s eyes searched Joel’s for a moment, like he would find some kind of answer in them. Joel didn’t need to see his reflection to know that the only thing Cody would find in his gaze was the hollow, desperate pain of your loss. There wasn’t anything else left in him to see. 

“I traded her,” he said. “To Mitchum. Met… met him about 10 miles north east of here but he won’t still be there. I don’t think he’d keep her with him - he never did before, always… always had her at his base…” 

“And where’s that,” Joel asked when he trailed off. Cody’s neck went limp and Joel grabbed his chin again, giving him a sharp shake and forcing his eyes to spring open. “Stay with me, focus right here. Where is Mitchum’s base? Where would he take her?” 

“Little spot,” he panted. “Just… a bunch of houses, don’t know if it’s got a name…” 

“Tommy!” Joel called without even glancing back at him. “Need a map.” 

It took a few seconds before Tommy appeared, handing Joel a wrinkled and worn map. 

“Point to where it is on this map,” Joel said, releasing his bloody, four fingered hand. “Your buddy over there know where it is?” Cody nodded, shaky, once. “Good. You point where it is. He’d better point to the same goddamn spot.”

He handed the map back to Tommy and kept Cody in his sights, watching as his skin grew pale and his head listless and limp. There was a scuffle and scream behind him, loud enough that Cody shocked back to full consciousness with it. 

“Sounds like your friend don’t know what’s good for him,” Joel said, taking Cody’s bloodied hand and forcing it to his thigh again. “Or what’s good for you.” 

“No,” he shook his head, his eyes so wide. “No, please!” 

“Tell him to cooperate,” Joel said. 

“Do what he says!” Cody screamed. “Just do it, please!” 

Joel pressed the knife to the base of his ring finger and cut. He was almost surprised at how easy it was to force the blade through the bone and sinew. He could barely feel the strain of it as Cody screamed below him. The knife sank a bit into his leg as it cut through the last of the skin and Joel picked the finger up, holding it in front of Cody’s crying eyes. 

“She scream like you?” Joel asked, turning the piece of his captive slowly before them both, the wet of his blood catching the light like the fractures in the glass of his watch. “You like hearin’ it like I like hearin’ you?” 

“Please,” Cody managed, voice ragged and hoarse.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, lowering the severed finger but keeping it firmly in his grip. “You already took her, already were handing her over to that… animal. Why’d you need to hurt her, too.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Joel thrust the knife into his upper thigh, inches shy of the man’s crotch and he gasped, mouth open in a silent scream. He was wearing out, inching closer and closer to death. 

“Don’t give a shit about your sorry,” Joel said. “Why. Tell me.” 

He gave Cody a second to start to recover from the pain before twisting the knife, making him seize again. 

“Tell me.” 

“She tried to run!” He sobbed, collapsing back down again. “She… she tried to run, killed two of my men. And she never… never appreciated what I did for her then…” 

Joel just nodded slowly. You’d been able to try to run, at least before Cody took your fingers. You weren’t so scared that you couldn’t move, weren’t so beaten that you couldn’t run. That was a good sign. You were a survivor. He had to remember that. You’d survived before. You would now, too. You would still be alive for him to find, for him to save, and he would save you. If it was the last thing he did, he would save you.

“Joel,” Tommy was at his side and it was quiet at his back. “Same spot.” 

“Good,” Joel said. He carefully picked your fingers up from where they’d fallen in the leaves at Cody’s side and tucked them away in his pocket again before getting to his feet. Ellie was at his side, her rifle in her hands. 

“I want to hurt him,” she said, her voice flat. 

Joel looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since they’d found Cody. There was a darkness in her eyes that terrified him in its familiarity. It was the look she’d had for a split second when he’d found her after David had taken her from him. It was sharp and vicious and demanding and Joel wasn’t sure she knew how to come back from it. 

“Will hurtin’ him help you?” Joel asked as gently as he could. She looked up at him, that sharp look still in her eyes. 

“He hurt my mother,” she said, a hint of barely contained rage on her face. “I need to make him pay.” 

He considered her for a second, trying to think clearly as he looked at the young woman who had once been the girl he’d shepherded across the country. In so many ways, she was still that little girl, one who he’d protected and failed at protecting, one who he had saved and had led to her near demise.

Would this be any worse than anything she had already suffered? Would it hurt her any worse than the things that Joel had allowed on his watch before, when he hadn’t been good enough to take care of her the way she deserved? Would it be, somehow, any more terrible because he allowed it? 

Ellie was so like him in so many ways, ways that terrified him when he thought about it. There was a passion in her that so easily bloomed into rage and he knew what it was to keep that stifled and smothered. He knew, too, what it was to take it out on another human being, even one who deserved it. 

He adjusted his grip on the knife and held the handle out to her. She went to take it but he pulled it back for a moment. 

“Can’t kill him,” Joel said. “Understand?” 

“Joel…” Tommy said at his back, but Joel just held out his empty hand, silencing him. 

“Understand?” He repeated, watching Ellie closely. 

She hesitated a moment, watching him back with those sharp, dark eyes. 

“I understand,” she said, taking the knife from him and turning to Cody. She cocked her head, examining him cooly. 

“Please,” the man whispered, looking up at her. 

“Which fingers did he take?” Ellie asked, not looking back at Joel. 

“Outside two,” Joel said, a twinge in his chest as he said it. “Her wedding ring with ‘em.” 

Ellie nodded, her grip tightening on the knife before lowering her knee to pin Cody’s wrist of his intact hand to the ground. 

“I told you I was gonna fucking kill you,” she said, her voice dangerous as the man tried weakly to pull his arm away from her. “My dad told me not to do that. But I am going to make you fucking pay.” 

She slammed the knife into his hand with a sharp, angry cry, more hacking at him than cutting, striking him again and again until she was splattered with blood and Cody had screamed himself to silence. Joel’s stomach twisted at the sight of it, the satisfaction at knowing Cody’s agony twinged with an ache of his own at the sound of Ellie’s pained scream. 

“If you’re just gonna let her fuckin’…” Tommy snapped, nudging Joel roughly to the side and stepping around him to wrap his arms around Ellie from behind, forcing her to still. She quieted then, no longer screaming and just sobbing instead. “It’s OK baby girl. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up…” 

“No!” She tried to shake him loose but he held firm. “I want him to hurt! I want to make him hurt, I want him fucking dead, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to live, he doesn’t…” 

“I know,” Tommy said gently. “I know. But you hear him? He’s passed out, you’re not gonna make him regret this any more than he already does and Joel’s gonna finish him. He’s not gonna live, OK? He’s paid for it, he’s hurt for it, it’s OK baby girl.” 

The knife slipped from her hold then, lying beside the mangled flesh and bone that had once been Cody’s hand. His pinky and ring fingers were completely gone. 

“C’mon,” Tommy said again. “Gonna get you cleaned up, let Joel finish the job, then we’ll get movin’. You’re OK.” 

He pulled her gently to her feet and gave Joel a deadly look as he passed, Ellie gathered against his side as he led her away. 

Joel knelt and picked up the knife, every inch of it splattered in blood now. He didn’t care. He took Cody’s chin in his hand and gave his head a sharp shake and the man gave a sharp gasp before trying to cough but choked on his own blood instead, his eyes opening slowly. He couldn’t even lift his head now, his eyes the only thing it seemed he could really move. 

“Wanted you to be awake for this,” Joel said, his voice a deadly calm. “Wanted to make sure you felt it. Wanted to be sure you knew why you were dying.”

Joel thrust the knife into Cody’s side, burying it fully between two ribs and twisting it there. His eyes went wide and his body thrashed as much as it could but it was a useless endeavor. He started gasping for breath, the gurgling sound of him starting to drown in his own blood overwhelming the sound of the woods around them as Joel pulled the knife from his side. 

“You could have lived, you know,” Joel continued. “Could have spent the rest of your years anywhere but Jackson, never would have looked for you. She asked me not to look for you, to just leave you alive. Felt like she owed you somethin’. Maybe she thought you’d been a good man once, long time ago. But you and me, we know the truth. You were never a good man, never had it in you to be good. You didn’t deserve her mercy so you ain’t gettin’ mine.”

“You…” he gasped and choked. “Promised…” 

“Promised what?” He asked. “To make it quick for you?” 

He didn’t give Cody a chance to respond. Joel just shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

He thrust the knife in between the same ribs on the other side, twisting it and pulling it free before wiping the worst of the blood on Cody’s pants and getting back to his feet. He put his hand in his pocket, the one that held the pieces of you. He traced your wedding band with his thumb, feeling your cold skin below his touch. How many times had this flesh laced with his? How many times had it tangled in his hair or squeezed his arm or touched his cheek? 

He held it himself now, trying to keep the pieces of you warm as Cody drowned in his own blood. His dying breaths were harsh and rasping and desperate, the last gasp of his mortality clinging to this life as though there was anything but pain to be found for him here. As if there was anything he deserved beyond pain. Just before the light left his eyes, Joel picked Cody’s fingers up off the ground and opened his mouth, forcing them inside. He stood back again, watching as he tried to take two quick, shallow breaths around them before going completely still. 

“Joel,” Tommy said from behind him. 

Joel looked down at Cody’s body for a moment longer. This man had hurt you, raped you, taken you. He was dead now, at Joel’s hand. There was justice in that. He spit on his body all the same. 

He turned to find his brother and daughter standing side by side, Ellie’s eyes still sharp but rimmed in red, her cheeks puffy. Both of them were wet, Ellie no longer splattered in blood. 

“We should move,” Joel said, stalking toward Cody’s horse. Tommy just watched him as Joel mounted up, the horse pawing at the ground for a moment as he got settled. He looked back at his brother. “If you ain’t got the stomach, Tommy, I’ll do this myself…” 

“I’m comin’,” Tommy said, going to another horse and mounting up, too. “Just hope you don’t get lost in the process.” 

Joel didn’t say anything. What was there to say? That the man he had the potential to be had left when you did? That, without you, there was nothing left to lose? 

He didn’t need to say it. Somehow, he was sure, Tommy knew. 

Instead, he nudged his horse forward, starting on the path given to him by the man he’d left in pieces on the ground. 

Next Chapter

A/N: So Joel is pretttttttty damn feral at this point. I'm not sure I've ever written a Joel quite this unhinged and that's not even accounting for the fact that the juxtaposition between Jackson Joel and Feral Joel is pretty harsh. He's just gone, at least for now.

There are just three chapters left of this fic now (I think, the way some of this chapter flowed means it may grow to 41 chapters but I don't think so)! Next chapter is going to be a big one, one that's been building for the whole of this fic and I'm so excited for it. I hope you are, too!

Thanks for being here through this INSANELY lengthy journey both in word/chapter count and in time. It feels like we've been with Joel and Bambi forever and that's because we kind of have been - almost a year now! I hope you've enjoyed the ride. I know I have.

Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY PHOTOGRAPHED BY MATTHEW LEIFHEIT FOR VULTURE MAGAZINE.

TALKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER ARC IN S2.

Aegon is confident, politically savvy, and even affectionate with his children from sister-wife Helaena (Phia Saban).

“Showing that he has the potential to love was interesting to me. I wanted to investigate that.”

Glynn-Carney, who read the book after a season one conversation with Condal and Sapochnik about Aegon's overall arc, praises the development for its shock factor and the attention it gives to Saban, who says it is "sensational in all its forms."

There’s something about Aegon in his eyes when he admits: “I’d probably go a little more graphic about the gore. I could have done with, ‘Oh, I can’t look at that!’ The sadist in me needed it.”

TALKING ABOUT MUSIC.

The playlist he made for Aegon (he makes one for all his characters) helps get him in the right mercurial mind-set, he tells me at Rough Trade.

It includes some contemplative classical and punk rock like the Undertones, Stiff Little Fingers, and the Sex Pistols.

“Ironically,” he says with a smile. “fuck-the-patriarchy, fuck-the-monarchy stuff.”

In his own life, Glynn-Carney makes “lyrically driven, quite folky” music, citing Tame Impala, Bon Iver, and, of course, Garvey as influences.

He grabs a copy of Jeff Buckley’s Grace because he’s worn down his current edition from listening to it so much. He treats Chet Baker’s 1959 album Chet gently, like a holy object, when he tells me he’d love to play the cool jazz musician in a biopic one day.

“There she is,” he says, as if greeting an old friend, when he sees Patti Smith’s Radio Ethiopia.

“Anyone who says they don’t like music, you can’t trust them. Bodies under the floorboards, isn’t it?” he says.

OLIVIA COOKE TALKING ABOUT TOM GLYNN-CARNEY'S ACTING STYLE.

His acting style is instinctual, a function of his theater training that feels particularly well suited to Aegon’s own impulsiveness.

When filming their first scene on the show together, Glynn-Carney encouraged Cooke to actually slap him in the face:

“The first go, I did it really haphazardly. I only caught his chin with my fingertips, because I was too nervous. And he was like, ‘No, Olivia, just, like, really go for it. Just really go for it.’

“I went for it, and the ringing sound that came from the slap reverberated all through the Red Keep. Tears are springing to his eyes and his chin is wobbling.”

SPOILERS!! S2.

OLIVIA COOKE TALKING ABOUT A SCENE OF AEGON AND ALICENT IN S2.

In a scene they share in season two during which Aegon grieves the loss of a relative:

“He was throwing himself around the room in just the throes of despair. It sort of took me out of the scene a bit. I was like, Bloody hell, Tom’s doing well.”

ABOUT THE PERSONALITY OF KING AEGON II.

“massively bipolar.”

That emotional volatility, fueled by shame, guilt, and an obsessive need to prove himself, becomes a major driver of this season’s increasing bloodshed and brutality.

“Aegon wants to be loved and feared at the same time. But I think it’s a dangerous cycle.”

“We’re not going to get to the core of what’s going on. We’re just going to go round and round and round and round and round until everything burns and everyone’s dead."

ABOUT HIS SCENES WITH RHYS IFANS IN S2.

One of his favorite days on set this season reminded him of the live energy of performing onstage.

They were shooting episode two, when Aegon challenges his grandfather Otto’s decisions and remains steely and resolute in response to Otto’s insults:

“I’ve always wanted to do a play with Rhys, and that felt like the closest thing I’ll get to it for a while.”

“It was an empty set, a big room, like a stage. We were allowed complete free rein of the space.”

TALKING ABOUT HIS FAMILY.

He came from a creatively inclined family: His paternal grandparents were an opera singer and a choirmaster, and his mother sewed all the costumes for his sister’s ballroom and Latin dance competitions.

They were supportive of his acting dreams, he says, but urged a plan B — a suggestion he rejected:

“I remember being so precocious and being like, ‘If I have a plan B, I’m preemptively failing it.’ My mom probably thought, Little dickhead.”

“I always had my eyes on the prize, and sometimes you’ve just got to be like that, haven’t you?.”

[cyberneticslasher]

Sheriff Rosco Truman

ough,,,the new update for Outlast Trials made me cook up this guy so fast,,,PLEASE be aware of SPOILERS when looking at this guys lore I am about to drop....thank you

Still wip and still trying to figure out what sticks and what will end up being changed yknow.

Rosco Truman WAS a Murkoff security guard, ended up in a freak accident where an ex-pop got out and attacked him, slicing his mouth open in a sort of permanent smile. The fight ended up putting him into a coma. After getting patched up and spending a few weeks in the med-ward right before they were planning on pulling the plug, he wakes up. But instead of being that murkoff security guard, he had fully believed he was a sheriff of the wild west days and firmly believed that this was his town. Even after numerous psych evals and bringing up his real name and other personal details (which has now been redacted…forever.) Clyde has noted that the only explanation for his behavior would be an odd fascination with old Wild West movies, and that his name is a clash of two popular sheriffs in said movies/shows. Yet even with his sheriff stance, he has taken he doing bad things…easily noted that he has creative ways of torturing others and has sadistic tendencies. There's also an odd fascination with Christianity and the lord, which was not noted before the coma but seems to be a powerhouse for his judgment, using his twisted understanding to rationalize his sinister behaviors.

SPOILERS FOR THE UPDATEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! During the breach of security and with the lack of Easterman, Clyde made a choice to outfit Rosco and throw him outside the facility to catch the escapees. Giving him a horse and guns, bringing back the reagents would be ideal, but ensuring they wouldn't get away was more important. Having this free rein twisted his perception and fed more into his delusion. Making him worse for wear and slowly more unpredictable. Once the breach is cleared, they pull him back inside and turn him into a PA because they literally couldn’t do anything else with him, and there was enough evidence from the returned reagents that he was terrifying to them.

END OF SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!

As a PA, they strip him of everything but his lasso. This increases his irritability and makes him more hands-on… I want to do an evil thing when they take his horse…something that would make him really hate the reagents but ion know if its a good idea like I'm thinking it'd be staged to look like the reagents killed his horse because there's no way he could realistically have his horse in the trials...sorry chat.

[wisteriaw0rld]

-ˋˏ ༻demons༺ ˎˊ- kny x reader

✰“hey, __, what do you think a world without demons would be like?” a Taisho era vs. Present au, (a random idea I had)

✰additional tags: kny hashira’s x reader, gn! reader, mentions of death, mentions of blood, reader or character death, (depending on the character), not proof read for mistakes, spoilers for the infinity castle arc!!

✰character order: Tomioka Giyuu, Obanai Iguro, Shinazugawa Sanemi, Tokito Muichiro, (only included the characters I had idea’s for :)

“it’s all for you, everything i do. i tell you all the time, heaven is a place on earth with you.” -Lana Del Rey

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˚ʚtomioka giyuuɞ˚ | ˚ʚbefore the battleɞ˚

❥giyuu didn’t know how to respond to such a question. A world without demons? Half of him always remained hopeful, even if it didn’t seem like it. He wanted to believe muzan’s rein would come to and end. The other half couldn’t help but believe that something bad and irreversible would happen during the planned battle with Muzan. The one all the demon slayers had been preparing for.

♥“a world without demons seems peaceful. And it’d be even better with you by my side.” Giyuu muttered, answering your question. You felt his hand squeeze yours gently as the two of you continued laying comfortably in his estate, resting on a futon together as you played with his hair using your free hand.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚduring the battleɞ˚

❥giyuu had a horrible feeling before the battle. The two of you had accidentally parted ways while making your way into the infinity castle. Tomioka found himself going against upper three alongside tanjiro. You ended up going against upper two. Before you knew it, you found yourself pushing Kanao from getting killed by upper two. You took her place. Just as she was about to get killed, you took her place. Upper three had passed away soon after. Before he knew it, his kasugai crow came, announcing your death while protecting the insect Hashira’s young tsugoku. It was her you. You chose yourself.

♥he found himself frozen in place the moment your name fell out of the crows mouth. It hurt more than the wounds covering every last inch of his body. He did it yet again. He failed to protect another person he cared so deeply for. He failed to protect the love of his life. And he knew this horrible feeling wouldn’t just stay now, in the moment. He knew it would stick with him forever.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚa new lifeɞ˚

❥giyuu didn’t fully comprehend the feeling he felt whenever he saw you. You had simply been so beautiful. It sounded corny to say he was a teacher that fell for another teacher. But it was the truth. In fact, it had been love at first sight. Something he truly never believed in. Until he met you. He himself felt a deep connection to you. As if he had met you before. He knew it all must be silly, though.

♥even before he knew much about you, even when he had first met you, giyuu had felt he’d known you all his life. You had somehow felt the exact same way. Giyuu’s love for you only grew from there. Whenever he was with you he felt truly alive. He felt he’d have to protect you with his own life if anything were to happen to you. And he gladly would. Something felt wrong about you being in any danger. A feeling his past self knew all too well.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚

˚ʚiguro obanaiɞ˚ | ˚ʚbefore the battleɞ˚

❥obanai remains confused at your question. A world without demons had seemed like such a non-existent world despite him becoming a demon slayer to get rid of them. It all seemed unlikely. At least, he couldn’t see himself living in a world like that. Only if you were there with him would it then all make sense.

♥iguro soon found himself smiling under his mask at your enthusiastic face, thinking of a demon-less world yourself. The idea seemed foreign, sure, but it was worth believing. “I don’t care if demons exist or not. As long as you exist I’m fine.” Obanai finally replied after his long thought process. Your face turned a light shade of red at his words. You found yourself burying your face into the crook of his neck as he gently hugged you.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚduring the battleɞ˚

❥obanai and you fighting side by side was something the two of you had both grown used to. Neither of you at all believed it was the last time you would fight together. It was a deadly situation. But becoming a demon slayer meant sacrificing your life for others. And as a hashira, the statement held much more meaning. You didn’t want this to be the end. You wanted to leave happily with the serpent pillar in this lifetime, though that was obviously not going to happen. No matter how hard you wished.

♥obanai had a tight hold on your body. You had both been slowly slipping out of consciousness. You were both to die soon. Yet he held you with so much strength. He muttered apologies to you as tears flowed out of his eyes. Tear after tear. “my love . . . it’s not your fault. I’m glad that I can at least be in your arms one last time.” You could hear his choked sobs. You heard one last, “I love you” come from his mouth before you fell lifeless, him soon passing away as well.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚa new lifeɞ˚

❥obanai fell for you fast. And he hated it. He hated how much he loved and cared for you. Especially how protective he was with you. But you had been just the same. Obanai felt something around you he’d never felt with anyone else before. He felt as if he’s known you since forever. In reality, he first met you when he took the position as a teacher in the kimetsu high school. If anything, he wishes he met you sooner.

♥he doesn’t know why, but it’s holding you in his arms that he loves and enjoys the most. It feels phenomenal. And it’s the way you care for him he also enjoy. You never judge him for his mask, or his harsh personality. You treat him with such kindness. And some words you say to him feel so familiar, bringing an odd feeling to him. He never hates the feeling.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚

˚ʚshinazugawa sanemiɞ˚ | ˚ʚbefore the battleɞ˚

❥sanemi had seen the question as foolish, even though he knew it wasn’t meant to be. The demon slayer corps was there to ensure the end of demons. But he soon noticed the unhopeful look in your eyes as the question slipped out or your mouth. “I’m sure we’ll kill Kibutsuji. Together.” Sanemi reassured you as you only gave him a nod.

♥no matter how much shinazugawa had assured you, that sinking feeling in your stomach wouldn’t leave. As a hashira, you were e tasked with helping other demon slayers train. You didn’t mind it at all until slowly, the demon slayers began bringing up the battle with Muzan more often. Every time the battle was mentioned, your stomach sank and your mood dropped. But you didn’t understand why. Sanemi told you everything was going to be okay. So you tried to remain hopeful.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚduring the battleɞ˚

❥sanemi had lost his little brother. You and Genya had been the only two people he had left. And yet Genya had died. And it broke his heart. But he made sure he would find you and let nothing bad happen to you. His Kasugai crow was nowhere to be seen so he didn’t receive any news about you. In a way, it didn’t matter. He was too late but he didn’t know that.

♥they had defeated muzan. They saved Tanjiro. And although sanemi hadn’t seen you since you both had parted ways to fight different opponents, he still searched frantically for you, expecting for you to show up. But you didn’t. Tears brimmed his eyes but he refused to accept it. Until he felt a hand on his left shoulder. He turned his head in that direction and saw Giyuu, who silently crying while shaking his head. You had fought by giyuu. But you had suffered with multiple injuries after taking the fall so many times. It resulted in blood loss.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚa new lifeɞ˚

❥sanemi, when he first met you, felt as if he had been complete. Like a missing part of him had been restored. He didn’t know what the feeling was and he didn’t know how to explain it. It was as if something that had been taken from him was given back and presented right in front of him. He had fallen for you. And he had fallen hard. It seemed unusual for such a person like himself to suffer from love at first sight. Yet it happened. But it didn’t matter. You loved him just as he loved you.

♥you had an affect on him that he didn’t at all understand. That in reality, no one understood. He had treated you so differently from anyone else and always had a look of admiration in his eyes whenever he was with you. He never raised his voice at you as he did everybody else. He loved you. And he didn’t ever want to lose you. Not again.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚

˚ʚtokito muichiroɞ˚ | ˚ʚbefore the battleɞ˚

❥muichiro often said random things when laying on the soft grass with you while cloud gazing. He had asked you what you thought of when it came to a world without demons. It was on odd question that you thought of for a short while. Muichiro brought his attention off the clouds and over to you. “I’m sure it’s a world of we can see soon.” Muichiro answered himself with a smile noticing you didn’t know what to say. You smiled back at him.

♥the mist pillar soon found his hand make its way towards your own. You gladly held his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. It wasn’t worth over thinking the upcoming battle with muzan. It was better to accept the heartwarming moments happening now. But sooner or later, you’d both have to accept those moments are soon coming to an end.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚduring the battleɞ˚

❥muichiro certainly didn’t expect to encounter upper moon one. Yet there he was, fighting by your side, just the two of you. It seemed hopeless. You were both covered with fatal injuries. Even when Genya had came to help, nothing seemed to work. Before you knew it, the stone pillar and the wind pillar came as well. But it was too late. Both you and Muichiro were sitting together on the floor as he hugged you tightly, knowing you would die before him. He didn’t want this to happen. He was fine with dying. But he didn’t want you to die.

♥you had begun crying while in his arms as the other three continued fighting. Muichiro repeatedly muttered about how much he loved you, his hold on you getting tighter by the second. “I’ll adore you and cherish you forever, y/n. Just as I did in this life. No matter what I’ll always love you.” Before you knew it, the two of you had slipped into an unconscious state. Gyomei soon walked over, placing his bloody green haori over your two bodies, tears leaving his eyes as he wished you both to rest peacefully.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. ˚ʚa new lifeɞ˚

❥muichiro at first didn’t know much about you. At least he didn’t think he did. Yet when he spoke to you for the first time in one of his classes, he was convinced he knew you since the beginning of time. Your voice soothed him and everything about you was so mesmerizing. He didn’t often cling to others. But then he met you and found himself by your side all the time, no matter what.

♥with only a few days of knowing you, he fell for you. Surprisingly even his brother found himself growing fond of your company. He enjoyed how happy you made Muichiro. Muichiro being with you was a drastic change. Like a lost puppy following you every single place you go, and not at all wanting you to be away from you. He kept his promise. He’ll love you in every life he lives.

a/n: kinda felt like a writing some angst mixed with fluff. I don’t really do well with angst so I hope this was good. Anyways, some taisho secrets! ⇩

Taisho Secret with Giyuu: shinobu soon caught onto your relationship with giyuu and she began teasing him, saying that with how protective he is of you, she’s sure you were lovers in your past life.

Taisho Secret with Obanai: you and him got married when you still teaching in the high school. Once the students found out, they called you two the parents of the school.

Taisho Secret with Sanemi: after yours and his brothers death, sanemi suffered from depression and every night found himself thinking of you two. He hung pictures of you all over his estate as a way of grieving.

Taisho Secret with Muichiro: your body, along with Muichiro’s, was never found. But despite being lost in the infinity castle, your body remained together.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

no quiet on this earth

Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 10 - killing in self defense | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 2.8k

summary: You and Joel run into hunters on patrol.

-- I'm a fucking menace, and this is Joel & reader from "you know you never stood a chance" (spoiler warning). BUT this can be read as a standalone. I just can't seem to help myself/let them go.

warnings: established relationship, jackson, patrol partners, hunters, Joel and reader both kill hunters, canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, lots of blood, oral (m receiving), p in v unprotected, creampie, feelings, guilt/trauma, trauma response, a little hurt and a LOT of comfort, Joel takes care of you, one (1) ass slap, pussy/clit spanking

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They had been waiting for you. Not the biggest group of hunters that’s come ‘round, but there hadn’t been any signs. It was supposed to be an easy half-day route. 

It was also your first patrol with Joel. 

You’re already off to a rough morning. He’s settled back into Out There Joel, gruff and tense, and you’re already feeling useless again even though you know you can handle it now. 

You’re on horseback, you with a gentle brown mare that you’re a little irritated about. Penny is notoriously slow and usually used to teach people to ride. Tommy taught you to ride ages ago, but Joel fucking insisted. 

“Ain’t havin’ you have to deal with a spooked horse our first time out.”

“Our first time. I’ve been out loads of times,” you grumbled. He leveled you with a look so stern that you rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t start with your smart mouth,” he said. “Only way this works is—“

“If I do what I’m told. I got it. Same shit, different place.” 

To say you’re pissed would be an understatement. You thought after all the shit you’ve been through that he’d trust you now. And you’ve gotten quite good with your revolver and halfway decent with the rifle. 

Now, out here on the trail to the safe house, neither of you has said a word. Just like the good old days. Y’know. If they had been good. 

You’re nearly there when they make their move. They don’t have guns, thank fuckin’ god, but there are five of them and two of you. 

It becomes quickly clear that they want the horses. Joel makes quick work of the first hunter that lunges for him. 

One comes at him from each side, and you’re too worried to notice the other two do the same to you. 

One grabs the reins and the other tries to yank you from the saddle. Your boots are stuck, and they don’t seem to particularly care if they break your legs during the extraction. 

You free your feet, boots left behind, and let the brick house of a man pull you down. He doesn’t care much about your landing, so when you hit the ground, you grapple for your revolver. 

His partner yells, and he spins back to you, a huge fist aiming for your face. But it doesn’t connect, because your bullet does first. 

He was close enough that it would have been near impossible to miss, which also meant that his stupid body landed on you, turning your clothes into a sponge for his blood. 

Joel’s rampaged through the others by now and turns to take down the one trying to abscond with your horse. 

But he doesn’t make the shot, because he freezes up when he sees you. 

“Get the fucking horse,” you yell. 

He swears and loads the rifle, one neat bullet into the head of the escaping hunter. He hadn’t fully mounted your mare yet, and his corpse crumples into the soft spring soil. 

Joel whistles and Penny takes her fucking time to come back, giving him a very unimpressed look and shaking her mane. 

He heaves the dead man off you. “Where?” he says sharply, eyes darting all over your body. 

“Nowhere, Joel, I’m fine,” you say. 

He’s already dropping to his knees, hands gripping and patting every inch of you before cradling your face. “You’re sure?”

“I mean, I think so. Unless I’m in shock, but I guess we’ll find out in a little bit.”

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he mutters, doing another check, slower this time and more thorough. 

You let him. You feel kind of funny, dizzy almost, but mostly just… muted. Like the world around you is muffled and you’re suddenly hyper aware of how blood is turning tacky and your jeans are stiffening as it dries. 

“Hey,” he snaps. 

You’re pretty sure that means he was already talking to you, and when you look up and meet his eyes, they abandon their irritation for concern beneath furrowed brows. 

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he says, voice low and slow. It draws out the Texan twang and loops you in. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You did what you had to do, okay?”

“Okay,” you echo, but the word sticks in your throat, tasting of copper. 

“Say it.”

“I did what I had to do.”

You’ve done as he said, but he looks more worried for it. 

“Alright, c’mon. I’m gettin’ you home.”

“But—“

“Rethink that, baby. I ain’t in the mood to argue.”

“But we were supposed to—“

“Yeah, and plans fuckin’ change. We’re going back. Tommy and I can come out and deal with the bodies later.”

He stands and pulls you up, though you follow willingly. You hover where you stand as he pulls a rope from his bag and tethers it to Penny’s lead. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Want you on Oakley with me.”

“I can ride,” you snap. “I’m not fucking hurt.”

“I know,” Joel says. “But you’re gonna ride with me.”

“Don’t start this shit,” you say, mortified when your voice and hands are trembling. “I can handle myself.”

He spins around, fury written in the curl of his lip. “I fuckin’ know that! I don’t give a shit. You’re riding with me, end of fuckin’ discussion.”

You open your mouth, ready to bite back, but he seizes you by the shoulders and shakes you a little. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ get it? It’s not about you,” he snarls. You’re crushed against him before you realize it’s an embrace. “You’re gonna fuckin’ ride up here, so I know you’re okay.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, leaning into him. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he says, but the fight is already leaving him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he lets go. “Now get on the damn horse before I put ya there myself.”

You think you deserve credit for only hesitating a little, tempted to see if he really would. But his jaw ticks and you heave yourself up onto Oakley. Joel swings himself behind you, caging you in as he takes the reins. 

“You’re so fuckin’ stubborn,” he gripes. 

“I learned it by watching you,” you say, voice pitched in mockery of the vague memory. 

But instead of irritation, something akin to relief flashes across his face. “Yeah, s’that right?”

“Uh-huh.” Now that everything has calmed, you’re exhausted. He can tell because of course he can. He knows you too well. 

“C’mon, lean back. I got ya. Not gonna let you fall.”

You don’t sleep, not really, but you fall into something between the light and dark. It’s blissfully absent of reality. You’re only aware of the soft sunshine, the sway of the horse, and Joel. 

Joel, your Joel, is everything right now. All encompassing. You’re surrounded by his warmth and smoky musk, masking the chill and tang of the stains on your skin. 

His heart seems to beat in time with Oakley’s hooves and the steady pace he encourages keeps you lulled in this safest place. 

“Holy shit, what happened?” Carl asks at the gates, almost loud enough to knock you from your peace. 

“Nothin’ too serious, she ain’t hurt,” Joel’s smooth tone settles you back down. “But do me a favor and get the horses back? Send Tommy my way in a while. I’m gonna take her home.”

Home. It sounds so nice. But you’re already there, you want to tell him. There’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here. 

You must actually say it, because he chuckles. “Okay, sweetheart, but I can think of somewhere I’d rather be.”

It hurts a little before he leans in and murmurs in your ear. 

“I’d rather be in a warm bath with ya. That sound better than stayin’ put?”

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah, you’re right. Way better idea.”

He makes good on his promise when you get home. While he draws the water, he peels your ruined clothes off and sits you on the bathroom counter to rinse the blood into the sink. 

You sit very still with your eyes clenched shut as he cleans you. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “First one’s the hardest.”

You can’t quite stopper the whimper. 

“This is part of why I don’t like ya goin’ out there. I can’t protect you from this.” The admission costs him, but he seems to decide it’s worth it when you look up at him. 

The tub isn’t really big enough for both of you, but he makes it work, long sprawling limbs propped up to make room for you against his chest. You lie on your side, both to make more room and to press your ear to his chest and listen to his strong, tender heart. 

He holds you there, hand gentle on your head and the other around your shoulder until neither of you can pretend the water is comfortable still.  More importantly, his cock’s been pressing against you for a little while now, and you’re unable to ignore it anymore.

You roll over on your stomach, legs bent a little funny to fit, but it’s the right angle to press a kiss to the fat mushroom head that you love so much. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need—”

But you just give him a look, because he knows better, he knows you’d never do anything you don’t want to. And he knows how often you crave it, how your throat aches for it.

He raises his hands in surrender. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop ya.” 

With the convoluted seating arrangement, you’re able to swallow down his length, working your throat open in the way you’ve grown to know well. It’s a lot at once, but the way he groans is worth the effort. 

You choke and gag a little, but neither of you are really bothered by it. Quite the opposite. And you’re grateful for the way the thoughts you don’t want to face are knocked from your brain each time he ruts deeper. 

Too soon, though, he’s pulling you off, spit thick with precum stringing between him and your lips as you whine.

“C’mon, let’s get out. I gotta have more of you.”

You don’t dry off quite as much as you’d like, but you’re probably going to need to change the sheets anyway. He can’t be bothered to let you towel off properly, picking you up and setting you on the bed before crawling over your body.

He kisses you, ferocious but hesitant, and you trail your hands up his arms, basking in the way he encompasses you for the second time today. His soft, powerful body leaves no wiggle room, practically pinning you down with his bulk. 

Except he’s holding himself up, tense. And the gentleness of his tongue and distinct lack of nipping teeth in his kiss is grating. 

You turn your head to break apart. “Stop acting like I’m gonna fall apart.” 

“I—”

“Oh, don’t even. It’s like you think I’m going to break if you touch me.”

“I didn’t want to make it feel like…”

“I know,” you say, softer. “But I want to feel you, Joel. I don’t want to feel the ghost of it… him. Please.” 

“You wanna feel me, sweetheart? Want me to be a little rough with ya?” 

“Unless you’re too tired. S’it past your bedtime, old man?” 

He doesn’t fall for the taunt, but he pretends to, and you’re deeply grateful as he snarls and bites at your breast before licking and sucking at your nipple, taking it between his teeth and shaking a little. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, hand tangling into his hair. He wears it a little shaggier these days, and you find you like it long. A lot. 

“Think you can take it just like this?” he says around your other nipple. The hand that isn’t holding him up has reached down to his cock, rubbing it against your clit until you squirm, and then dragging it down your slit. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. I think you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait any longer than the first little nod of your head before he flicks his hips, parting you, forcing your body to make room for him. It takes a second thrust to push all the way in, and you cry out as he stuffs you full. 

It hurts so good. It’s just the edge you need to feel awake again. The world is no less fuzzy but the haze is pleasurable and electric instead of the numb fog that refused to dissipate. 

“That’s my girl,” he says. 

It floods you with warmth. You think maybe the sappiness is leaking through, that he can see how stupidly in love you feel. 

Or, you know, it’s actually leaking, since you’re apparently fucking crying. You can’t really begrudge yourself for it. It’s been a hell of a day. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, the gentleness of his voice playing second to the harsh slap of his hips and the tight pinch of his fingers on your breasts. “Let it out, sweetheart. Let me help you.” 

His pace, somehow, intensifies, the brutal snap of his cock blunt against the softest parts of you. He pushes your legs to your chest so he can shove his way in deeper, and smacks a harsh hand against your ass from his new vantage point. 

He grips your hip with one hand and lets up on your tits, only to show no mercy to your clit. He skips over the gentle circles and soft strokes, instead pinching and tugging. He wrenches two orgasms from you before he eases off. 

“Hold your pussy open for me,” he grunts.

You look at him with wide eyes. How can he still be finding ways to shock you with depravity? The two of you have to have fucked every which way, and yet. You slide a hand down but he shakes his head.

“Both of ‘em, baby. Nice and wide.” 

Your cheeks are burning as he lifts up onto his knees, pushing your legs apart to watch as you spread your lips wide. For a moment, he’s mesmerized by the push and pull of his cock splitting you apart and the way it comes out a little slicker each time. 

“Look at that,” he says, a smug smirk spreading. “Fuckin’ creamin’ all over me, sweetheart. Now hold still.”

Before you really process the order, still dying from how hot his filthy words are, he slaps your clit. You jerk and let go, crying out more in surprise than pain.

“Put your fuckin’ hands back,” he says, and you obey. 

Your whole body is on fire, maybe. He brings his hand down sharply again and again, making you hold yourself spread wide for him to use as he pleases. 

It doesn’t really surprise either of you when you come. He finally knocks your hands away from your cunt and leans back down over you, hips stammering sloppily. 

“Can I—” he chokes out, and you’re nodding so hard it shakes your brain around. He digs his fingers into your hips. “C’mon, sweetheart, one more. Gimmie one more while I fill you up.”

He goes to reach for your clit, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as he starts twitching and pulsing inside you, you come, eyes rolling back and fingernails digging into his biceps. 

When you’ve both settled, there’s something bright in his eyes, something wild and dangerous. He sinks his teeth into your collarbone and doesn’t pull out. His softening cock isn’t much smaller than it is erect, and he stays buried deep in you, eyes trailing over your face. 

“What?” you say softly.

“I thought… thought I fuckin’ lost you today.” His voice is gruff but tight.

“You didn’t, Joel. M’right here.”

He kisses you, and it’s not gentle exactly, not like earlier, but it’s tender and demanding. His hands grip you and roam, not pursuing pleasure but just to have his fill of you, to feel your body warm and alive beneath him. 

When he breaks away from your swollen lips, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did good. I don’t like it, but you did good. I’m not gonna ask you not to go out again, but—”

“I’m gonna ask Tommy if I can have a break,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’m not a coward, but I don’t know if I can do that again.” You’re burning again, but this time with shame.

“No one expects you to. It doesn’t mean you’re a coward. You’re tough, sweetheart. But y’ain’t a killer.”

“I am, though,” you whisper. 

“Stop. Yes, you killed that man today. But you had to. It was him or you. You’re a survivor. But I’m going to make damn sure you don’t have to be anymore, alright? We’re safe here, now.”

You let out a ragged sigh and try to relax back into the pillow. “Okay,” you agree. You can tell he needs it. How scared he was. 

At least for now, you’ll let him protect you from this.

*title from "Death For My Birthday" by Say Anything

[veilkeeper]

okay minor DA:V spoilers regarding that one passive on the skill tree

....

but i think the mortalitasi passive that is literally just blood magic is actually a really interesting look at how the chantry has to make exceptions to their own ideology in order to maintain its hegemony. like i know some people are upset about it because it's just blood magic under another name, but let's play in this space for a second.

in orlais, ferelden, even the free marches, all blood magic is a hard no. using your own blood to power spells is the territory of maleficars, if you get caught you're fucked. but in nevarra, where the mortalitasi and the associated funeral rites are very important culturally, exceptions are made. so even though it is in direct conflict with some really important ideas about acceptable magical practices and the nature of spirits, the chantry sort of has to strategically loosen the reins in order to maintain some amount of power and presence in nevarra.

they do a similar thing with the seers in rivain, too, where people are allowed to practice "hedge magic" (and even let spirits possess them, as is indicated by some codex entries), because they know that trying to stamp out those cultural practices will just lead to stronger opposition to the chantry overall.

it's sort of interesting to see where the chantry forces assimilation and where they take a backseat and let some things go. it's especially interesting to see where that intersects with cultural ideas around magic and spirits.

[detta-pica]

“Let me put your hair up.” Suguru, focused on eating his last rice ball without spilling any of the filling, shrugs. “If you want,” he mumbles around a mouthful. He’s crouching by their bags, so it’s easy enough for Satoru to slink down behind him and begin gathering tangled locks. Suguru’s scalp feels itchy with sweat, though he washed his hair shortly before arriving here. Satoru bundles it up into a lazy bun with practised motions--he’s done it enough times to master the technique--then secures it with a silk tie. Satoru kisses Suguru’s nape before pulling away. He spreads a blanket in front of the hearth, close enough that Suguru fears falling sparks might ignite it. Satoru positions Suguru on it, facing the fire, then kneels behind him. The air fills with the gentle fragrance of scented oil they both like. Suguru watches the dancing flames, hypnotised by the sensation of hands--warmer now--kneading the back of his neck, his shoulders. Thumbs press into his nape, working up and down, up and down. “You planned this,” Suguru accuses. His voice is already a little breathy, and devoid of reproach. “You have things planned, too,” Satoru counters. “And I don’t intend to complain about it.” “Oh? Giving me free rein?” Suguru can’t help slumping a little, hanging his head. It’s bliss. Satoru is not allowed to find out how good he is at this. A kiss lands between Suguru’s shoulder blades, low, where the oil hasn’t yet dripped. “That’s the idea, right? To have each other and forget everything else for one night? That was the deal.”

Literally every part of the Halloween fic other than the smut scenes is a spoiler, so. Here's a prelude to something spicy. I need to finish this damn thing before I run out of these scenes.

[mademoiselle-cookie]

(Novel spoilers)

I find it a shame that we never had a discussion between Chief Lim and Zhenya. It is thanks to him that he was able to meet Taekjoo, if he had not decided to betray his agent, their story would never have started.

Zhenya would not have been designated as his fake partner, he would not have had free rein to play as he wanted with Taekjoo and most importantly, Taekjoo would NEVER have been to Russia.

Zhenya thanked Taekjoo's mother for giving birth to him (he's a biiiiit in love), he would probably love to go thank the man who allowed him to meet the love of his life. He would love even more to taunt someone who tried to use him (I remind you that Zhenya is an asshole).

He would have just had to use his ambassadorial status to visit him in prison.

[honestly-mad-person]

I'll NEVER LET YOU GO

WARNING: SPOILER ALERT! Genre: Angst Pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

Annotation: What does a person feel when they realize that they have been forgotten? When they look into the eyes they love madly and they do not shine as they did when they first met. When the person who has forgotten inadvertently does or says something that they had said before, in a past life, before dying in a warm hug. How does a person live when they realize that they have been forgotten?

While I was writing this, I could hardly hold back my tears. I really feel desperate when the realization of all this is spinning in my head. I didn't expect this game to be so cruel, not a cute otome game with sweet boys.

Even though this story ended so suddenly, I don't want to write about Xavier's inner suffering. I want to think about the fact that now he has time to be with MC, to fall in love with her again like the first time. And he will do everything he can to make sure that the time they spend together is as beneficial to MC as possible. Even knowing that it is limited. Even knowing that the disease will take her love away from him again. He will fight for MC's life even at the cost of his own. (Sorry for the mistakes, I haven't slept in a while and I'm still upset about this story. And yes, I'm writing this with wet eyes, yeah.)

— No... – you mumbled, lying restlessly in bed.

Your head rolled from side to side, your brows furrowed, and your hands clutched the blanket until your bones turned white.

You had a dream. More precisely, a nightmare that left behind a storm of emotions and feelings, when you woke up with a scream, suddenly sitting up.

— Baby, what is it? – asked Xavier in a frightened voice hoarse from sleep.

Sitting in the dark, you clenched your fists, giving free rein to the tears that poured from your eyes in hot streams.

— Princess, – Xavier's voice sounded and his arms wrapped around you, pressing you to his chest.

— Xav… – you couldn't speak because of the lump in your throat and continued to cry, feeling tension in every cell of your body.

— Hush, I'm here, – he whispered quietly and, touching your head, stroked it soothingly.

You couldn't stop your sobs. Fear, pain, sadness, loneliness and emptiness covered you. Your eyelids were swollen from tears, and with trembling hands you held tightly to Xavier's sweater.

— God, what happened… – he said, feeling how your shoulders trembled and how desperately you held on to him.

Gradually, you calmed down, only occasionally sobbing. Your eyes burned and you couldn't open them, you clung to Xavier, feeling him soothingly caress your shoulder and head. Snorting your nose, you felt a headache that squeezed your brain every time you moved your head.

— Xavier… – you whispered, wiping your tear-soaked cheeks with your hands, pulling away from him.

His hands slowly slid off of you, giving you space.

— What did you dream about? – he asked, sitting next to you.

—I… I don't know for sure, but… – you strained your brain, trying to remember what you saw. – I remember the lights in the sky, they appeared and then went out, as if...

— A meteorite shower? – prompted Xavier in a quiet voice.

— Yes,— you nodded, turning your head in his direction.

You couldn't see him well because of the darkness and swollen eyes, but you knew how he looked now. Asleep, with disheveled hair, he looks at you with his clear, light blue eyes. You couldn't make out his mood in his voice, but it wasn't hard to guess. Excitement and confusion.

You never woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares. It was a first for the two of you and it was no wonder you felt it together.

— A meteorite shower… and the smell of salt… I can still smell it, – you muttered. 

Xavier was silent, listening to your every word.

— I watched the meteor shower with someone who was important to me, but I can't remember his face, it's like in a fog.

— Take your time, – Xavier said softly, touching your shoulder.

— I don't know who this person is, but I think I loved her, – you said uncertainly, feeling a rush of emotions again.

You took a deep breath trying to control yourself and exhaled and continued.

— It was the happiest moment in my life, but then... then the picture changed and I...

There was silence in the room and only your quiet breathing interrupted it.

— I died – you said, feeling how tears poured down your cheeks again.

It seemed to you that it was real. It's like you really died. As if in one moment just poof and you are gone.

Your shoulders shook and you covered your face with your hands, sobbing softly.

Xavier hugged you again, brushing his lips against your forehead. He didn't say a word until you mastered another sob on his chest. Patiently waiting for you to continue, his arms wrapped around you tightly, preventing you from moving away from his embrace.

— I died like that, – you whispered, looking nowhere. – Sitting in the arms of the person whom I loved infinitely. My life ended in his hands.

Suddenly you realized that Xavier, who had not spoken for a long time, was sitting tensely, hugging you. His hugs, as if he was afraid to let you go, his quickened heartbeat, which you only now heard when you stopped crying, and the faint shaking of his hands.

Lifting your head, you could barely see his face.

— Xavier? – you asked, feeling how your own heart beat faster and how the pulsation of pain grew in your head.

— I'm listening, – he cleared his throat in a low voice.

After a few seconds of silence, you hesitated.

— If you don't like hearing about this nightmare, then I –

— No, go on, I want to hear, – he interrupted, shaking his head.

— Okay, – barely nodding, you pressed your cheek to his chest. – The last thing I remember is that I saw a star... so close.. or something that looked like a star. She shone so magically in front of my eyes, as if she had come down for me personally from the night sky...

Your lips curled into a bitter smile as you tried to recall more details.

— The life was leaving my body, the heartbeat slowed down and the eyes, as if filled with lead, closed by themselves – your voice sounded quieter and quieter. – And I plunged into cold, merciless, empty darkness.

Xavier's arms tightened around you. Leaning into your ear, he whispered in a low voice.

— I won't let this happen, I won't let the darkness take you… – he cut off his words abruptly, as if he wanted to say something else and replace it, his lips touched your shoulder, lingering on it for a few seconds. – No matter how much time passes, no matter where you are... I'll find you. I'll definitely find it.

As soon as the last phrase reached your ears, your body shuddered in excruciating pain. It was as if your brain was being torn to pieces and you grabbed your head with your hands, trying to stop it.

Sensing the sudden change in your body and your moan of pain and agony, Xavier became confused. His hands quickly picked you up and he was about to leave the bedroom to take you to the hospital, until suddenly your quiet words came to his mind, agitated by excitement and fear for your health.

— It was you… – you whispered, clinging to the last shreds of consciousness. – I dreamed of you...

Your body went limp in his arms, your head fell on his chest and you fell into the darkness.

A distant, so familiar and familiar voice came to you, telling you:

— You promised we'd watch the meteor shower again.

It echoed, gradually dissolving in the darkness.

[orbiborb]

In celebration of the Poppy Playtime Chapter 4 trailer coming out, I thought it'd be fun to finally post the concept drawings I had done all the way back when chapter 2 originally came out. 🌼

I thought it'd be fun to design and write an antagonist that wants to help the player but is also still a threat due to their unstable nature. Having been rejected and thrown away, Daisy can be clingy and possessive of the player, turning aggressive at times if they feel the player is trying to abandon them.

I also thought it would be fun to add the Prototype as part of the story, taking the reins of Daisy when they decide to let you free. I was inspired by the scene in Coraline with the Other Father (no big spoilers for anything, iykyk) as well as Junji Ito's story, "House of Puppets".

I thought having a chase scene where the threat can only go after you if the ceiling tiles were designed to allow them to move there would be interesting. Not only that, Daisy could also help guide you to safe areas where they know the Prototype can't drag them.

I also thought having quick-time events where you gradually break each thread holding the Marionette until there is one left would be a fun boss fight.

I wasn't planning to post this, but I also don't want it to collect dust forever on my laptop. The character belongs to Mob Entertainment, but feel free to use the concept if you have any fun ideas to add on! If you do, be sure to tag me! I'd love to hear what y'all have to say!